


Camp Pining Hearts

by kamanzi



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, F/F, Mild recreational drug use, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-05-18 03:35:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 120,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5896567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kamanzi/pseuds/kamanzi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peridot and Jasper return to summer camp after their freshmen year of college--this time, as counselors. Peridot is disappointed to learn that nothing is quite the same, especially her relationship with her best friend. Whose fault is this? She blames Jasper's girlfriend.</p><p>“‘Let’s go back next year and be counselors,’ she said. ‘It’ll be fun,’ she said.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The second the van rolled off the highway, the passenger-side window—upon which Peridot’s cheek was leaning—cracked open and began to slide down her face. Peridot’s steady mouth-breathing had made the glass sticky, but it wasn’t the peeling sensation of the window parting from her skin that woke her up. What woke her up, in fact, was a sharp screech of breaks and Peridot’s forehead, pitching forward from the force of the stop, colliding with the dashboard.

“ _Jasper!”_ she shouted as she snapped back into her seat. Peridot was so sure she had cracked her skull that her right hand automatically flew to her forehead to keep her brains from spilling out. Peridot’s left hand, meanwhile, balled itself into a fist and crashed down onto the thigh of the driver, who chuckled. “Are you _trying_ to kill me?”

The bulky woman sitting beside her flicked her eyesight towards Peridot for a moment before staring again at the red light at which they had stopped. Her teeth were bared in a wide grin. “Maybe you should’ve kept your seatbelt buckled, huh? You’d think you would’ve learned by now.”

“That’s not funny,” Peridot said briskly. After determining that not even the skin of her forehead had broken, let alone her skull, she felt her glasses to see if they had suffered from the collision. Figuring that all was well, she proceeded to prop her crossed arms on the ledge of the open window and to turn her face away from her friend—although, not before covertly pulling her seatbelt across her chest and clicking it in place.

She felt her friend stiffen slightly beside her. “Sorry,” was all that Jasper managed to say before a thick, awkward silence enveloped them. When the light eventually turned green, Jasper maneuvered the car down a small, paved road to their right. “Smell the air, though. We’re here! Finally.”

Despite the residual pounding in her forehead, Peridot couldn’t help but smile a little. “Yeah. Finally.”

The salty wind coming off the ocean spilled onto Peridot’s face and she sighed into it, grateful that Jasper had rolled down her window after all. As they drove, a blur of trees whizzed past them to their left. To their right, the ocean and its rocky shoreline was broken only for a moment by a peninsula, upon which rested a small city.

Jasper spoke up again. “Wait. Did I miss the turn?”

“What?” Peridot glanced at her friend, who was studying the rearview mirror. She looked back out the passenger-side window at the city. “Are you serious?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Jasper growled. “Did I miss it or not?”

“Of _course_ you didn’t, you clod.” Peridot pointed at the collection of houses and boardwalks that were just distinguishable. “It’s _past_ Beach City. We’ve been here _every year_ since we were basically born, how do you not know how to get there?”

“I mean—” Peridot noticed Jasper’s grip tighten on the steering wheel. “—our moms drove us here until we were sixteen.”

“Yeah, and _you’ve_ been driving us here since.”

“Whatever, I know where I’m going now.” While Jasper’s face was red, lips pressed tightly together, Peridot was suddenly feeling cheerier.

“Does your girlfriend know that you’re a blockhead or have you managed to distract her enough with your—” Peridot rested her hand on Jasper’s bicep and made a show of batting her eyelashes. “— _rippling physique_.”

Jasper pushed her hand away with a rough roll of her shoulder, but she was smiling again. “You’re not allowed to talk to her, just so you know.”

The car bumped along for an extra minute after passing Beach City before a wooden arch appeared at their left. Large white paint spelled out “CAMP HIDDEN GEM” above a dirt road.

“There it is!” Jasper pumped her fist in the air before firmly punching Peridot’s shoulder. “ _Told you_ I knew where I was going.” She turned the car off the main road and through the passage, dodging thick trees as the dirt road wound through the forest.

“Only after I reminded you,” Peridot muttered quietly as she rubbed her shoulder. But her grin remained.

Soon enough, the van screeched to a stop. This time, Peridot’s seatbelt kept her from flying forward, but she steadied her hands against the dashboard anyway. Both girls turned to look at each other at the same time. Almost instantly, however, Jasper dissolved into raucous laughter.

“ _What_?” Peridot asked, suddenly feeling paranoid. “What’s so funny?”

Jasper, unable to speak for laughing, feebly pointed at her forehead. The smaller girl then reeled around to lean her face out her open window and to stare at her reflection in the car’s side mirror.

“Oh my _stars_ ,” she groaned as she watched herself pick up her fingerless-gloved hand to prod at her forehead. It ached, which was understandable considering the large, red, upside-down triangle shape indented upon it.

“Yeah,” Jasper wheezed, her own forehead propped on the steering wheel for support. “That’s gonna bruise.”

\---

Per tradition, Jasper kicked open the cabin door, hollering, “ _Honey, we’re home!”_ in a thick, false accent before dumping their bags on the moldy floor. The door’s hinges protested with loud squeaks, also per tradition. But although the screws shuddered, they managed to hold the hinges to the doorframe—however feebly. Peridot held her tongue. Though normally she would be tempted to sneer about Jasper’s brutish behavior, Jasper _did_ carry Peridot’s bags all the way up the hill to the site, after all—and also per tradition.

Jasper climbed onto the top bed of the bunk in the back corner, using only her upper arms to pull herself up. The wooden support groaned beneath her weight as she stretched out like a large cat. “Oh man, Per. I’m beat.”

Peridot merely grunted in response. She clumsily stooped to swipe her backpack off the ground and brought it to the bunk below Jasper, where she sat on the edge of the mattress and pulled out a handheld gaming system. She looked up briefly before readjusting her glasses and returning her attention to the gadget. “You know, one day you’re going to cave in on me. All that’ll remain of me will be dust and a few hunks of severely bent metal. This bunking configuration is most unwise.”

Jasper snorted and said with drowsiness thick in her voice, “You know you couldn’t make it up here anyway. A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.”

Peridot just smiled. Got to hand it to her, Jasper was right; there was no way in hell Peridot could manage to scale up a bunk into the top bed. And she, preferring to sit with her elbows on her knees and to become absorbed in the video game, didn’t think it was worth mentioning that there were plenty of bottom bunks from which Jasper could choose.

She was so thoroughly immersed in a world of aliens and laser beams that she didn’t notice the cabin door creak open again until a voice rang out, stern and clear, “Ah, I thought I’d find both of you in here.”

Peridot glanced up and saw a tall, lean girl carrying a clipboard. “Hello, Pearl,” she said flatly before returning her attention to her handheld. “Indeed, we are in here.”

“Yes, well, that is—” Pearl stopped. “What did you do to your head? Never mind. Could you wake Jasper up, please? She ought to hear this, too.”

Peridot also hadn’t noticed the steady stream of snoring coming from above either. She leaned behind her to reach between the bed and the wall to pull out a long, thick stick of wood. Peridot wasn’t even surprised the stick was still there, since that had been its resting place since the summer before they started middle school. “Hey,” she said, positioning the stick between wooden slats to prod sharply at the mattress above her. “Jasper.” Prod. “Wake up.” Prod. “You sack of refuse.” Prod.

“Wha—” Jasper groaned sleepily. Peridot heard the bed creaking above her and knew that her friend must be sitting up. She replaced the stick to its hiding place. “What’s going on?” There was a moment of silence before Peridot heard Jasper resignedly sigh. “Oh. Pearl.”

“Jasper,” Pearl returned as she straightened up and flipped through pages on her clipboard. “Your assignment this summer is the Yellow Cabin. Your campers will arrive tomorrow morning, so please make any necessary preparations before lights out tonight.”

“Yeah, Pearl, I know.” The bed above Peridot creaked again as Jasper presumably laid back down. “Why do you think I’m in here?”

“See, that’s the thing,” Pearl said. “I asked you both—” Her eyes flickered to Peridot. “—to meet me at the Temple to discuss your assignments.”

“Why bother,” Jasper sighed, sleepiness seeping back into her voice.

“We’re in Yellow every year,” Peridot added as she turned her attention back to her game once again. She pointed her thumb behind her back. “That’s why I leave my stick here.”

“Yes, well, _that’s_ why I wanted you to meet me at the _Temple,_ ” Pearl huffed. The pages shuffled back into place as she balled up her fists against the plywood of the clipboard. “You’re _not_ in here every year anymore.”

There was a beat of silence before Peridot heard the wood above her creak violently. “But you _just_ said—”

“ _You’re_ in here, Jasper.” Pearl pointed at her, then moved her finger to indicate Peridot. “ _You’re_ in the Pink Cabin.”

The floor trembled with the force of an earthquake as Jasper jumped down from the bunk, advancing towards the lanky girl. “ _What_?”

“Yeah,” Peridot added. Game forgotten on the mattress beside her, she stumbled to her feet as well to join Jasper. “ _What_? Why am _I_ being moved?”

Pearl, to her credit, didn’t flinch. She brought her clipboard down to rest in front of her thighs; the movement was relaxed, yet authoritative. “ _Because_ it simply doesn’t make sense to have two counselors in one cabin and no counselors in another.”

“But _you’re_ the Pink Cabin counselor!” Peridot almost shouted, gesturing wildly out the window. From her vantage point, she could just see the top of a roof peeking out between trees at the bottom of the hill.

A sly smile spread across Pearl’s face as she puffed out her chest. “Ah. I _was_ the Pink counselor.” She brought up her clipboard to tap at it. “I have, however, been _promoted_ to junior director, thank you very much.” Her long nose was tipped incredibly high as Pearl spun on her feet to pull the cabin door open. “Just get there as soon as you can, Peridot, please. You have campers that will be here tomorrow morning as well. Dinner meeting at eight o’clock, don’t forget.” A foot was already out the door when Pearl glanced back over her shoulder. “Oh, and Jasper, please, would you move to a bottom bunk this year? If the bed collapses underneath you onto a camper, Hidden Gem can be held liable.” The door slammed shut behind her, and silence settled between the two remaining girls.

After a moment, Peridot sighed grumpily. “She hasn’t even started law school yet and she thinks she knows everything. Typical.” She looked up at her friend, whose expression was unreadable. “Whatever, Jasper, it’s okay,” she said with an airiness that didn’t feel truthful.

Jasper bent forward to swipe at Peridot’s lime green duffle bag, hoisting it onto her shoulder effortlessly. She started to open the cabin door before Peridot could even react. The smaller girl then hastened to stuff her handheld system back into her backpack. She began to sling it onto her back as she walked out the door, but Jasper intervened by snatching it and throwing it over her own free shoulder. “Come on, Per,” Jasper said, so quiet that Peridot had to strain to hear her. “I got it.”

“Thanks,” Peridot said back, and the two trumped back down the hill together. As they descended, she threw a last look over her shoulder at the painted yellow diamond on the cabin door. Its color was chipping. Jasper had really ought to stop kicking that thing.

They reached the bottom of the hill quickly and veered left, down a path that led to a cabin constructed with faded red brick. This one’s door had a pink star painted on it, which looked as if it had been retouched recently.

Peridot rushed in front of Jasper to clomp up the steps and to push open the door before Jasper could kick it. The hinges gave way smoothly and silently. She held it open for her friend before turning to face the space herself. “Whoa—” Peridot held back a small gasp. “Sweet digs.”

The Pink Cabin was, for lack of a kinder description, _way_ better than the Yellow Cabin in every conceivable way. The wood floor was swept clean and looked to have been polished. The windows were complete with untorn screens and sheer curtains. The bunk beds were made out of an attractive dark metal that looked sturdy and safe.

Jasper grunted in response. “Where do you want these?”

Peridot shrugged at first, then pointed to the bunk in the back corner. Jasper hulked over to drop both bags on the bed, then remained standing where she was to look around. Peridot couldn’t help thinking that her friend looked too big to exist.

“I’ve never been in here before,” Jasper said, turning back to face Peridot—yet, refusing to look her in the eye.

“Me neither,” Peridot replied. “They keep all the riff raff in Yellow where we belong.”

This comment managed to force Jasper’s face into a wry smile. “Look at you, moving on up. First the fancy school, now the fancy pad.”

There was another slightly tense silence before Peridot asked, “Wanna hang out for a bit? Dinner’s not for a while.”

Jasper grinned wider, more mischievously. “If by ‘hang,’ you mean sweat up every single one of these cushy beds, then duh.”

“You’re crude,” Peridot said, grimacing. But her grimace fell into a smile as she unzipped her backpack to retrieve her game and as Jasper lumbered up onto the bunk above her. The metal of the bed frame didn’t protest at all.

\---

The sun was already setting when Jasper jumped down from the top bunk to examine herself in front of the floor length mirror, which was next to the cabin door. Yellow Cabin never had one of those, Peridot couldn’t help but notice as she put away her handheld and watched her friend preen.

Jasper was flexing her biceps and making embarrassing poses that she often referred to as “the gun show.” She ran her hand down a dark, reddish stripe of skin that Peridot had forgotten was there. Now that she remembered its presence, however, she couldn’t keep herself from seeing the other patches that streaked across Jasper’s other arm, hand, and face.

“What time does your girl get here anyway?” Peridot asked, turning her face away to glance out the window. From here, she could see the large fire pit and, beyond that, the lights from other windows that indicated people were already collecting in the Temple.

Jasper glanced up at the analog clock hanging above the cabin door. “Her plane probably _just_ landed, so she’ll get on the bus and meet us at the Temple in about forty five minutes.” She grabbed at the door handle and pulled it, looking over her shoulder at Peridot with a toothy smirk. “That doesn’t mean we can’t get started though.”

As Peridot got up to follow her, she glanced at her own reflection in the mirror. The dark shape on her forehead was still there, and getting darker. She reached her hand up to flatten her blonde hair over the bruise before she stepped through the door that Jasper was holding open.

“Those are so stupid,” Jasper chuckled, waving her hand towards Peridot’s own, which were now clutching onto the wooden railing as they descended the few steps to the ground.

“You wouldn’t say that if you were pretty much constantly tripping over yourself and falling down.” She stretched out her grip after releasing the railing and examined her black, fingerless gloves. “Certainly keeps me from always tearing up my hands.”

They walked together towards the Temple, its windows looking even brighter as the sky above them darkened. “You don’t fall so much anymore though. I don’t see the point.”

Jasper bumped hips with her. Although Peridot stumbled a bit, she managed to steady herself before she completely tripped over her own feet. Jasper barked with laughter as Peridot threw her a look of greatest distaste.

“And jeans, too? Isn’t it a little hot?”

“It doesn’t make that much of a difference, actually,” Peridot replied huffily. She could feel Jasper’s eyes lingering on her though, so she continued, “But also, I’d prefer to not deal with all that tonight. I’m too tired.”

Shrugging, Jasper replied, “Ain’t nothing they haven’t seen before though.”

They were silent then, and walked up the few steps to enter the Temple. Although a majority of the tables were empty, Peridot could tell that they were some of the last people to get there. Pearl sat at the head of a long table, chatting animatedly with other counselors and staff, a mixture of people that Peridot recognized as either being former campers, citizens of the nearby Beach City, or both. Near the middle of the table, at the edge of the group, sat a stoic young woman. Despite the new darkness outside and the fact they were now inside, she wore sunglasses. Jasper nodded her chin at her, muttering, “Garnet,” then sat down at the furthest edge of the table from Pearl. Peridot sat across from her, facing the door.

A box of pizza was passed down the table to them. Jasper grabbed four slices and began to eat them stacked on top of each other. Through a mouthful of food, she managed to say, “I’ll give you twenty bucks to let me play a prank on the new campers tomorrow, though.”

Mouth also full of food, Peridot took the time to chew and swallow before she opened her mouth to respond. Just as she was about to, however, she heard Pearl’s voice singsong from down the table, “Peridot? Jasper? Are you listening to this? This applies to you too!” Both girls turned their faces towards her to listen, but not before catching each other’s eyes and rolling their own.

Peridot stopped listening almost immediately. She picked at her slice of pizza with her fingers, feeling too lethargic to be hungry. She glanced up at her friend to see that Jasper’s eyes had already glazed over, too.

Then a movement over Jasper’s shoulder caught Peridot’s attention, so she diverted her attention to look towards the door. A girl had just entered the Temple, a duffle bag and backpack thrown over either of her shoulders.

The first thing Peridot really noticed was that this stranger had outrageous hair—chopped short and dyed blue. The second thing she noticed was the girl’s stomach, toned and bare under a crop top. The third thing was the girl’s eyes, which were so dark they looked black from that distance.

And the fourth thing was that, at some point, those dark eyes had connected with Peridot’s and stayed there, unflinching.

Was she staring? Oh no, Peridot was so staring.

She leaned forward to tap on Jasper’s hand, successfully breaking eye contact with the blue-haired stranger. She whispered, “Check out the manic pixie dream girl.”

Jasper, surprisingly responsive, wheeled around to look at the door. Her face then broke into a humongous smile—not a smirk or an impish grin, but a genuine smile—as she stood up to approach the girl. Peridot watched as Jasper said something she couldn’t hear and held out her arms while the stranger dropped both of her bags and launched herself into them. Within a blink of an eye, Jasper and the girl were kissing emphatically.

Peridot was so inexplicably mortified for them that she averted her gaze, but not before she heard someone to the left of her let out a wolf whistle. Upon turning towards the main group, Peridot saw Garnet bringing her fingers down from her mouth and grinning wildly. There was a small ripple of laughter. Once it died out, multiple conversations ensued; Pearl must have been finished saying whatever she had to say.

Jasper approached the table, carrying the girl’s bags in one hand and leading the girl herself with the other. “Per,” she grunted as she dropped the bags on the ground at her feet. “ _This_ is Lapis. Lapis, this is my best friend, Peridot.”

The blue-haired girl held out her hand, which Peridot took and gave a single shake before dropping again. “It’s so good to meet you, Jasper talks about you all the time!”

“Yeah,” Peridot chuckled awkwardly as she realized, now that she was up close, that Lapis’s eyes were very dark blue, not black. “Same. You’re early.”

“That’s what I said, too. Pizza?” Jasper asked Lapis, who nodded. “Stay here, I’ll get it. The box is at the other end of the table now.”

Lapis, who sat herself in the seat Jasper had abandoned, smiled softly at Peridot. “So. You and Jasper have known each other forever, huh?”

“Oh.” Peridot, realizing she was still crumbling her pizza between her fingers, wiped her hands stealthily under the table onto her jeans. Her face felt hot. “Um. We met in second grade. That was when her family first moved into our neighborhood.”

“I thought it must’ve been a long time. She was telling me stories about when she first started coming to this camp? And you seemed to be in every single one of them.”

“Of course she was,” Jasper said, returning to Lapis’s side with two slices of pizza on a paper plate, which she handed off to her as she sat. “Per was my right hand up until we graduated and she shipped off to an Ivy League.”

“Smith isn’t an Ivy League,” Peridot cut in. Her insides were squirming uncomfortably for some reason.

“Well it’s still better than a state school, isn’t it?”

“Which is way better than community college, of course—” Lapis added, hand held in front of her mouth as she chewed her pizza. “—where _we_ are.”

“Oh, _man_ ,” Jasper chuckled, turning her whole body to face Lapis. “I was telling her earlier about that game we went to right before school got out.” As Jasper spoke, Peridot noticed Lapis’s hand twist around her friend’s forearm, stroking the dark red streak there.

She zoned out, consumed in her observation. The sight of this stranger sitting so closely next to Jasper was very—well, for lack of a better word—odd. Of course, she’d known plenty of Jasper’s previous girlfriends and could see certain similarities. There was the thin yet athletic stature, the edgy hairstyle and clothes, the classic hotness (which Peridot, obviously, appreciated from an objective standpoint). But something about Lapis was just _different_. There was a gentleness in her demeanor to which Peridot had never known Jasper to be attracted.

Her thought process was broken as she watched Jasper and Lapis lean towards each other to share a kiss over some comment she’d just missed.

“ _Ugh_ , what is this, Camp Pining Hearts?” Peridot said under her breath as she rose from her seat. Both of the girls across from her looked up at the screeching of her chair. “I’m going to bed.”

“Oh, cool,” Jasper said, getting up too and patting Lapis’s shoulder as she did so. “I’m gonna walk her out real fast, I’ll be back.”

“Okay. Good night!” Lapis added to Peridot, reaching up to lightly touch her forearm as they passed. “It really was great to finally meet you,” she said with a warm smile. Her fingertips made Peridot’s skin prickle.

“Yeah,” Peridot replied.

Jasper accompanied her outside the Temple door, then asked in a low voice and with a waggle of her eyebrows, “So. Manic pixie dream girl?”

“Shut up.” Peridot halfheartedly punched her friend in the shoulder. She was grateful for the darkness, which she was hopeful would successfully conceal her blush.

\---

Perhaps it was the strikingly unfamiliar environment that Pink Cabin offered, or perhaps it was the fact that no campers were in there to fill it yet. Either way, sitting alone on the edge of the bed with her back to a pitch black window unsettled Peridot. She kept feeling the need to peek her eyes over her own shoulder, half-convinced she had heard something scratching at the screen from outside.

Turning her attention to the tablet she had placed on her lap, she opened up a word document and began to type.

“Log date 060515. I find myself reverting to my childish hylophobia, from which I haven’t suffered since Jasper and I first starting coming to Hidden Gem.” Peridot’s eyes drifted away from the screen and towards the bunk above her as she wrote. “I am alone, having been reassigned from Yellow to Pink per Pearl’s request. Jasper is off gallivanting who-knows-where. She got her girlfriend from school, Lapis, a last-minute job here as instructor for water-related activities. _Apparently_ she’s the strongest swimmer Jasper’s ever seen, as she insisted to me earlier—accompanied by a lengthy description of Lapis’s ass. I’d never met her before tonight. She is most assuredly not what I expected.”

A noise from behind Peridot—a breaking of twigs, maybe—shook her out of her concentration, accompanied by an intense shiver down her spine. She certainly hadn’t imagined the sound that time.

She quickly pushed her tablet off her lap and, as quietly as she could manage, tiptoed to the cabin door. Here, she switched off the light. The room was thrown into near pitch darkness, interrupted only by the blueish glow of the tablet on the bed. Peridot used this beacon to guide her way back, turning it off too once she had clumsily crawled onto the mattress on her hands and knees. She pulled back the sheer curtain ever so slightly and peered out the window.

The blood pounded in Peridot’s ears as she strained her eyes. The moon was large and bright in the sky, though, so the ground glowed where shadows weren’t streaking across it. About thirty feet away from the window was a rustle of movement, to which Peridot’s gaze jumped instantly. Following the slow-moving shadow to a head of thick, blonde hair, Peridot released the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. It was just Jasper.

Peridot was about to unlatch the window to yell out at her when she saw that her friend wasn’t alone. She instead watched Lapis’s back move down the path, away from the cabin and towards where Peridot knew the non-counselor staff’s lodgings were located. Jasper, so much taller, grabbed her hand and pulled her back. Lapis turned around with a brilliant smile on her face, saying something that Peridot couldn’t hear at all. Jasper replied; although Peridot couldn’t make out the words, she could recognize her friend’s faraway, deep voice from its strength.

Then Lapis was talking again, using her free hand to warm her bare bicep. She turned away once more and tried to leave, stopping only when Jasper actually did release her. Facing her, Lapis’s expression remained puzzled as Jasper removed her cargo jacket, and then broke into one of immense tenderness as Jasper helped her shrug the jacket onto her own shoulders.

Jasper leaned down to kiss Lapis gently on the lips, slowly pulling away until the shorter girl grabbed her face and held it fast to her own. The kiss deepened. In a matter of seconds, Jasper had pushed Lapis against a nearby tree, pulling away to say something under her breath as she snaked a hand under the hem of Lapis’s shirt.

It was at this point that Peridot, face burning, decided whatever was about to happen next was much too indecent for her to watch. She choppily backed up from the window, sinking to the floor and pressing her back against the bunk frame. Disbelief that she had let herself spy _at all_ , let alone for so long, left Peridot’s skin feeling clammy, like she needed a shower.

When a noise like a distant moan was carried to her ears through the window, Peridot decided that a shower—or _any_ excuse to get her out of the cabin, really—was an absolute necessity. Still shrouded in darkness, Peridot fumbled in her duffle bag for her shower caddy and towel and proceeded to book it out the door as quickly as her legs would take her.

She entered the community bathroom—out of breath, but relieved. The light flickered on spookily and illuminated the chilly room. But, graciously, it was at least empty and extraordinarily clean. In fact, Peridot had never seen the bathroom this clean before and quickly realized that, since she’d never been a counselor before either, she’d never been the first person to use the showers. To use them before the walls became slick with grime and the drains became clogged with hair—that was a dream Peridot never realized she’d had before that moment.

She made her way to the end of the line where the handicap stall was located, her shower caddy nestled in the crook of her arm and her towel slung over her shoulder. She glanced at the mirror as she walked. There were no water stains or handprints, a rare sight. But there was Peridot’s reflection staring back at her. And _that_ looked quite the mess.

Placing her towel on the counter, Peridot leaned forward to examine herself carefully, thankful that Jasper wasn’t there to interrupt her this time. She smoothed back her bangs, which were frizzy, and inspected her forehead. The bruise was mostly unchanged, save for a spot of purple that was forming right in the middle. The fingers that were pulling back her hair had dirt underneath their nails. Peridot pulled her lips back into deprecating sneer. Her teeth still had pizza stuck between them.

“Oh, yeah,” she muttered to herself, dropping her hand and patting the countertop. “ _No_ idea why you’re still single.”

Peridot spun on her feet to step into the handicap stall, pulling the curtain behind her and sitting on the bench in the same motion. She placed her caddy next to her and then reached to her other side behind the second, inner curtain that separated the shower from the changing area. The temperature dial was stuck, as it always was, forcing Peridot to give it a mighty tug before it gave way. As the water heated up, she proceeded to peel off her gloves, then her t-shirt, and then her sports bra.

When it came to unbuttoning and ripping down her jeans, the denim hit a familiar snag as soon as it had cleared her bent knee caps. Sighing, Peridot leaned forward to unhinge a plastic knob before finally tugging off her right prosthesis, then repeated the action on her left. Leaving her boots on the fake limbs, Peridot tore both of them out of the legs of her jeans and propped them standing against the bench beside her. Now stripped down to only her glasses and her underwear, she extended her knees and inspected the few inches of leg below them that she had left. The sight, though far from unfamiliar, still had the power to make her skin crawl.

She was already exhausted, and the strength she used to remove the last item of clothing, juggle her shower caddy, and scoot herself onto the side of the bench actually in the shower was the last she had in her. Peridot leaned her back against the wall and groaned. The hot water that was pounding on her chest felt most welcome.

Peridot sat like that for a long while. Her mind was sluggishly becoming clearer than it had been all day. She forced herself to dip her head forward to soak her hair and face, and reached into her caddy to retrieve a bar of soap. As she ran it up and down her arms, her stomach, her back, her legs (which ached the strongest), Peridot let her thoughts wander.

This was a mistake, as they wandered immediately to the scene on the dark path behind the Pink Cabin where Jasper and Lapis were probably still entwined. Despite the hot water, Peridot couldn’t suppress a shudder.

She was half-embarrassed for her friend’s sake, though it would be difficult for her to deny Jasper’s propensity towards physical exposure. It _was_ Jasper, after all, that had led a skinny dipping coup d’état on their last night of camp last year—in commemoration of their final of many years as campers, she had insisted. (Peridot had opted to stay behind under the pretense of acting as lookout and for the actual purpose of remaining clothed.) The other half of Peridot, however, was embarrassed for herself, having just witnessed a level of intimacy that was absolutely foreign to her.

It was at this point that she noted, if she were a character on her favorite T.V. show (or one in her admittedly extensive self-published works of fan fiction), this would be the inciting incident that would evolve her story line into one that followed the concealed-romantic-feelings-for-her-best-friend trope. And Peridot, ever the curious, allowed for a moment of contemplation on this theory, wondering what it might feel like to have her own back pressed against a tree trunk as Jasper’s face loomed mere centimeters above her own.

And then she was grateful that she was already in the shower, because the idea made her feel dirty again. She scrubbed her skin over once more, extra hard this time, before reaching for the shampoo and washing her hair.

Peridot realized she must have been in the shower an egregiously long time, because once she’d finished rinsing her hair, scrubbing her face, and polishing her glasses, the water had gone tepid. But just as she reached forward to turn off the tap, she heard a voice that she didn’t immediately recognize, causing her to pause.

There was a moment’s silence, and then the voice rang out again, louder. Peridot still couldn’t make out the words over the shower. “ _What?_ ” she yelled out in response. When the voice started to speak again, she muttered, “Wait, hold on,” and finally turned the water dial down.

The water stopped, but the person on the other side of the curtains hadn’t realized this, evidenced by their continuing to yell. “ _You left your—_ oh god, sorry.” Quieter now, “You left your towel on the sink.”

“Oh,” Peridot replied, peeking out the curtain just enough to confirm the towel’s absence from the bench. “Of course I did.”

“Peridot?”

“Uh, yes?”

“It’s Lapis.”

“Oh,” Peridot said again. She could feel the heat returning to her cheeks. Under her breath, she mumbled, “Of course it is.”

There was a giggle. “I’m not going to peek, I promise. I’m just going to toss it over the curtain to you, okay?”

“Okay,” she returned, resting her back against the tiled wall. Then there was a soft grunt, a plunk, and a subsequent loud clatter.

“Oh, _god_ ,” Lapis laughed. “I’m sorry. Don’t come out yet, I’ll get it.”

The screech of curtain rings sliding preceded a sharp, tremulous gasp. Peridot pulled back her curtain again just enough—still concealing anything below her chin—to see Lapis staring down at her prosthetic legs, which had apparently fallen on top of each other to the floor. Lapis looked up at her, hand clasped tightly over her mouth. Her face looked as hot and red as Peridot’s felt—not, of course, that this was any comfort to Peridot.

“I’m— _Peridot_ , oh my _god_ —I’m so sorry.” Lapis’s eyes kept moving between the ground and Peridot. “I’m _so_ —Jasper _never_ told…” Her voice drifted off.

Peridot’s voice felt tight in her throat as she asked, “Do you _mind_?”

Lapis immediately turned her face away, pulling the outer curtain shut behind her. Peridot scooted to the changing room bench and swiped her towel off the floor where it had fallen. She quickly patted her knees dry before reaching down to grab her legs, pulling them back over her warm, swollen skin and fastening them with much difficulty. After standing, wrapping her towel around her chest, fixing her glasses onto her face, and smoothing back her wet hair, she pulled the outer curtain open and stared at Lapis, who was leaning against the counter facing her.

Peridot noticed Lapis was still wearing Jasper’s jacket. She herself, observed via the mirror behind Lapis’s back, was a sight to behold. Red-faced and naked—save for a towel, a pair of combat boots, and (most conspicuously) her fake legs.

Lapis spoke first. “Peridot, I’m _so_ sorry.”

“For what,” she intoned, any hint of emotion missing from her voice. A creeping feeling of rebellion consumed her as she moved her hands up to rest on her hips.

“For reacting like…” Again, Lapis’s voice drifted. “Jasper never told me. I had no idea.”

“Well,” Peridot huffed, turning around and bending to retrieve her shower caddy and pile of clothes. She straightened up again and took a step towards Lapis, who shrunk even further against the sinks. “I can understand why, seeing as how _this_ —” She glanced pointedly down at her knees. “—is _none_ of your business.”

She turned away from Lapis and stormed out of the bathroom. From the sinks, she heard Lapis call out, “ _Wait_ , Peridot, please, are you okay? You look like you hit your head and—” before she slammed the bathroom door behind her.

Peridot was just pondering if she could _be_ any more humiliated when she realized that, in her fury, she had walked out wearing only her towel. To make matters worse, a throng of other counselors and instructors exited the Temple at that exact moment and collectively stopped in their tracks at the sight of her. She recognized Garnet’s wolf whistle coming from the back of the group.

As she stomped her way back to Pink Cabin, Peridot grumbled under her breath. “‘Let’s go back next year and be _counselors_ ,’ she said. ‘It’ll be _fun_ ,’ she said.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Campers arrive for their first day back at Camp H.G. Peridot, meanwhile, handles everything poorly.

By the time a familiar crackle began to reverberate throughout the campground, Peridot was already wide awake—though she would’ve insisted it was more out of force of habit than the product of a restless night’s sleep.

Microphone feedback screeched before, suddenly, Pearl’s voice broke out. It was clear and nauseatingly cheerful. “Good morning, everyone! Today’s the day! Breakfast is now available at the Temple, where we will review a final brief of today’s activities before the campers start arriving at ten o’clock sharp.” A giggle interrupted her speech before she continued, “Let’s make this the best summer ever! See you all soon. Junior Director, over and out!”

Peridot sluggishly rose to throw her knees over the side of her mattress. Sitting up, she stretched her hands above her head before she reached behind herself to the window ledge where her glasses and gloves rested. After putting them on, she surveyed the trees outside. The path behind the cabin was unoccupied.

She reached over to pull her duffle bag closer to the bed and retrieved from it a brown t-shirt with the words “CAMP HIDDEN GEM” screen-printed on it. She began to pull out a pair of jeans as well, but then Peridot had a flashback of Lapis’s face from last night. So she threw the jeans aside and dug for a pair of shorts.

Clothes on, Peridot tugged and fastened her legs (which still wore her combat boots) onto her knees and then stood to walk over to the full-length mirror. Her hair was wild from having slept on it while it was still damp, and the bruise on her forehead was now completely purple. She tucked her shirt into her pants and ran her fingers through her hair once.

“Attractive,” she said aloud. And then she walked out the door and down the steps.

Once she stepped over the threshold into the Temple, her eyes immediately roved over the group of people already sitting at the table. Pearl and Garnet were leaning their heads close together, the former snickering into her hand as the latter whispered something. Next to them were two girls and two guys. Three of them were tossing pieces of bacon at each other while one of the girls—squat with blonde hair—had her back turned to them, her nose pressed deeply into a book.

Most noticeably to Peridot, Jasper hadn’t arrived yet. And, graciously, neither had Lapis.

She retrieved a tray of food from the kitchen window at the back of the room. The little grandmother behind it, whose chin barely cleared the height of the countertop, nodded at her as she did so. Then Peridot sat herself at the same place where she had been the night before and, resting her cheek on her hand, set to work on her breakfast.

Every time the door swung open, Peridot couldn’t keep her eyes from shooting up to see who had entered, and every time this had happened so far she felt a most eclectic mixture of feelings. First, whenever another staff member walked in, she felt immediately disappointed that it wasn’t Jasper; she would much rather stomach her way through watching her best friend hork down food than to sit here eating alone. But, second, whenever a new arrival proved to not be Lapis, Peridot felt a rush of relief flood the tension out of her face. And then, third, she would feel conflicted because the arrival of Jasper would almost certainly accompany the arrival of Lapis—and she wasn’t sure if she’d prefer having both or neither girls join her. And finally, fourth, she would just feel anger that Jasper had dragged her latest semester fling along at all, or else Peridot wouldn’t have been forced onto this emotional roller coaster in the first place.

After what felt like hours of this internal struggle (but what was, in reality, about two minutes), the door swung open to finally reveal—

“ _Great_ ,” Peridot muttered into her scrambled eggs as a pair of dark blue eyes instantly met her own.

At the very least, Peridot was pleased to see Lapis’s face become immediately pinker. She was more pleased still as Lapis turned to hold the door open for Jasper, who lumbered in after her.

“Hey, Per,” Jasper yelled from across the room, mouth stretched wide into a grin. But just as she grabbed her girlfriend’s hand and began to walk towards Peridot, a different voice rang out.

“ _Excuse_ me, Miss Lazuli,” Pearl called. “Would you mind very much speaking to me for a moment?”

Peridot was now fit to burst. Jasper soon arrived at the table alone with a breakfast tray as Lapis sat herself next to Pearl, who looked cross.

“Aw, man,” Jasper groaned as she sat across from Peridot. “You’re wearing shorts. We’re really wasting an opportunity to scar kids for life, you know.”

“I don’t think it matters,” the smaller girl replied, staring down at her bacon as she shredded it between her fingers. “I’m apparently going to scar people for life regardless of when I make _the big reveal_.”

There was silence as Jasper swallowed her first mouthful of food. Then she spoke. “Is this about Lapis walking in on you legless last night?”

Peridot dropped her bacon onto her plate as she looked sharply up at her friend. “ _What_? No.”

Jasper raised her eyebrows at her as she stuffed a piece of toast halfway into her mouth.

“ _No_. It’s _not_. It’s—” She maneuvered her fingers under her glasses to pinch the bridge of her nose, squeezing her eyes shut. “I can’t believe she told you.”

“Of course she told me.” Jasper shrugged her shoulders and looked back down at her food. “She was _pissed_ at me that I didn’t warn her.”

Peridot chuckled dryly before letting silence envelope them again as Jasper chewed voraciously. Then, “Why _didn’t_ you tell her, anyway?”

Jasper looked up at her, staring at her pensively as she swallowed. “When you talk about me with your Ivy League friends, do you tell them about this?” She gestured her hand at her face and down her arms, where the red stripes wrapped around her skin.

“It’s not an Ivy League.”  Then Peridot thought for a second. “No. I suppose I don’t.”

Her friend shrugged at her in a very well-there-you-have-it manner before she returned to ravaging her plate.

“But you’re telling me,” Peridot pressed, “that between _all_ the stories you told her about me and about camp, you never even brought up any of your—” As she struggled to find the right word, she waved her hand down at her lap. “—jokester tendencies.”

“Oh, I did,” Jasper said as she barked out a laugh. “Just none of the pranks that involved me pulling one of your legs off. I guess I was hoping to use one of those priceless babies on her. Didn’t want to spoil it.”

Peridot released a single, sharp breath of laughter. “Oh, _yeah_. _That_ would’ve gone over really well.”

She let her gaze drift down the table. Lapis looked like a trapped animal as Pearl lectured at her. Peridot could only just hear her saying, “ _I_ understand, trust me. But in the future it’s rather _imperative_ that you don’t—”

“Look, she really didn’t mean it the way you took it.”

Peridot spun her head around to look at her friend. Her mouth dropped open to reply before Jasper interrupted.

“She just didn’t expect to see that. Think of it like if you were talking to—” she nodded her head at the end of the table. There, Garnet was still sitting next to Pearl, just staring aimlessly off into space. Or, Peridot assumed she was, because the tall woman was still wearing sunglasses. “What if she took off her shades and she had three eyes, right? You’d be pretty shaken up.”

After a moment, Peridot conceded. “I suppose so.” She glanced again at Pearl and Lapis. “What do you think they’re talking about?”

Jasper laughed into her breakfast. “Oh, I could take a guess.”

“What?”

“Lapis, uh, didn’t sleep in the correct cabin last night.”

“Why, where was—” Peridot stopped speaking as Jasper waggled her eyebrows suggestively. Peridot suddenly found herself suffering from a flashback of entwined bodies and roaming hands on a moonlit path. She attempted to cover up her gulp with a scoff, flicking a piece of scrambled egg at her friend. “You’re disgusting.”

\---

Immediately after breakfast, Pearl shepherded the whole group of staff members outside. Lapis looked immensely relieved to be away from her, but was still sheepish as she rejoined Jasper and Peridot at the bottom of the steps. Peridot reveled in it.

“Morning,” Lapis said rather quietly. Her eyes quickly glanced down at Peridot’s bare legs, and then corrected themselves immediately. Peridot didn’t respond.

“How much trouble are you in?” Jasper asked, a wry smile playing on her lips, as she reached her arm forward to pull her girlfriend into her side.

Lapis’s face melted into a smirk. “I’m not in any, she just wanted to advise me on how ‘very inappropriate’—” Punctuated by air quotes. “—it would be if I pulled ‘that stunt’ again after the kids got here. Like I’m that brazen.”

Peridot’s attention waned as the other two talked, watching her best friend’s hand curl around Lapis’s waste. At the same time she noticed that Lapis had tied her regulation camp t-shirt up so that it displayed her midriff.

It was at this moment that Peridot decided that this girl was the most obnoxious individual she had ever met—and she was confident she would have insisted the same regardless of The Incident.

Then she felt a tug on her elbow, and twisted around to see Pearl.

“Come along, Peridot. I’m going to have you stand at _that_ log there.” As she dragged her away, she looked past Peridot’s shoulder and said, “Lapis, we don’t need you for this, you’re released for now. I _suggest_ —” She took a moment to glance at Jasper before returning her attention to Lapis. “—that you go familiarize yourself with the non-counselor quarters, hm?”

Peridot, no longer looking at the two girls, heard Lapis say, “Okay. I’ll see you later.” The sound of a kiss. (Barf.) And then, from much closer, “See you, Peridot.”

Peridot, having just been stopped and adjusted by her shoulders to face towards the entrance of the camp, watched Lapis walk past her. The girl tucked a strand of her blue hair behind an ear to reveal several piercings. This, for no other reason than—she would have to admit—pure spite, only served to agitate Peridot further. Again, she didn’t respond.

She sat herself down as soon as Pearl stepped away from her, and surveyed the scene. The log upon which she was resting was one of twelve that, in two stacked semi-circles, surrounded the fire pit. Hers was in the front row, furthest towards the end. To her right was the log where the blonde female counselor currently sat. The other girl, twiddling one of her big earrings, sat on the next one, and then the two boys who had been with them at breakfast occupied the next two. Directly across from Peridot, on the last log of the inner semi-circle, Jasper was being manhandled by Pearl. They caught eyes and Jasper bared her teeth. Peridot tried to suppress a chuckle.

Once all six counselors were situated, Pearl stood at the log-less end of the fire pit and checked her wristwatch. “ _Perfect_ , with five minutes to spare! Peridot, you can sit for now but please stand up when the campers get here. All right, everyone!” She clapped her hands together. “Before everything becomes chaotic, I just wanted to take the time to thank you all for coming back this year. Because of faithful alumni like you, either as returning staff or as previous campers yourself, Hidden Gem is able to keep doing what it does best—giving children of all ages the _best summer ever_!”

Peridot wordlessly mouthed along with Pearl’s last few words, then looked over at Jasper, who grinned and proceeded to pretend to throw up. Peridot had to clamp her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing at this, and then returned the gesture by mimicking vomiting into her open palm. Jasper dissolved into wracked, wheezing breaths.

“ _Ladies_ , that’s grotesque!” Pearl snapped at them. Both girls held their breath. “Oh, goodness, _and_ that reminds me!” Pearl ran off into the Temple, soon returning with a cardboard box. She dropped it on the ground and checked on her watch—“ _They’re almost here_.”—before ripping the top open. She dug inside and tossed something at Peridot, who wasn’t watching in lieu of making more faces at her friend.

It hit her softly in the face before falling into her lap. She looked down at her thighs and used her thumb and forefinger to unfold the piece of fabric that had landed there. It was a pink bandana. Peridot looked up to see Jasper already tying a yellow one on her bicep. The other four counselors—each with a green, orange, blue, or red bandana of their own—were similarly fixing it somewhere onto their person.

From the entrance of the camp came the low rumble of an engine and the shifting of gravel.

“ _Put. It. On_ ,” Pearl hissed at her. At the same time she flattened down her reddish hair with her fingers, turned about-face to stare at the entrance, and plastered a huge smile onto her face. Peridot clumsily stood up, shoving the pink bandana into her shorts pocket as she did so. It hung just above her mid-thigh.

A bus came from behind a thicket of trees, its breaks screeching to a stop a little ways down as cars trickled into the campground behind it. Clipboard and cardboard box in tow, Pearl walked briskly up to the group—ranging from young kids to teenagers to parents—and began welcoming them in her loud, progressively shriller voice.

Slowly, the group began lining up in front of Pearl. Peridot recognized the boy at the very front from camp last year. She didn’t know much about him aside from his being a staff favorite and, in her opinion, an overly excitable child. She could hear his excited voice greeting Pearl as she made a show of tracing her finger down her clipboard.

Pearl pulled a bandana from the cardboard box at her feet, revealing it as she turned around to face the counselors and shouted to them, “Steven Quartz Universe—Pink Cabin!” She then handed the handkerchief to the boy, who threw his arms up in the air and let out a whoop.

“That sounds about right,” Peridot moaned quietly, lifting her hand to wave feebly at the kid, who hugged a large man (presumably his father) goodbye before grabbing his own luggage to drag over to her.

Jasper chortled. “Welcome to Pink Cabin, Per.”

The boy—Steven—stopped running just short of barreling straight into Peridot’s stomach. “Hi!” he said emphatically, dropping a hamburger backpack from his shoulder and a hotdog duffle bag from the crook of his elbow onto the dirt. “I’m Steven!”

“Peridot.”

He chuckled as he tied the pink bandana over his forehead like a sweatband. Pearl kept shouting names off her list, and kids slowly seeped into the camp. “I know! You were a camper here last year, too, huh? You used to be in Yellow Cabin.”

“How very observant of you,” Peridot said.

He beamed at her. “I like your legs. Like a robot’s.”

“Oh.” She glanced up at Jasper, who whose lips were pressed tightly together, obviously trying not to laugh. She then looked back at the boy, who continued to smile unabashedly up at her (though she was truthfully not that much taller than he was). He neither flinched nor stared at her legs like they were something repulsive. “Thank you,” Peridot replied simply. Steven nodded at her, and then stretched out onto a log in their designated section.

One by one, Pearl read out names and cabin colors, handing each camper a handkerchief in turn. Jasper’s first arrival was a boy, probably around Steven’s age, with tight blonde curls. He smiled shakily up at her as he tied his yellow bandana around his neck. Jasper, arms crossed so that her muscles bulged out, only looked at Peridot and rolled her eyes.

Almost every kid that passed by ignored Peridot and her legs completely. Most of them were camp regulars. Even the children that Peridot didn’t recognize—newcomers—didn’t pay her much mind. If anything, they’d glance over, raise their eyebrows, and then continue on their way to meet their assigned counselors.

A fraction of Peridot wished that Lapis _had_ stuck around, for the sole purpose of pointing this out. At the very least, she wanted to relay this to Jasper. _See_ , she would say, _Literal_ children _can handle themselves better_. But she was too busy to try to catch her friend’s eye, being introduced to tiny human after tinier human.

The line in front of Pearl dwindled. A new girl—“Connie Maheswaran!”—had been assigned to Pink Cabin. Steven promptly started screaming and soon Connie joined in, dropping her bags to the ground and jumping up and down in a frenzied hug with him.

All campers seemed to have arrived, judging on the lack of a crowd at the entrance. Parents were getting into their cars and driving away. The bus had started to follow suit, but then the driver must have stomped on the breaks because it screeched to a sudden stop. The door reopened and an older girl—chunky, with long unruly hair and sleepy eyes—stomped out of it. She had a single, overstuffed backpack and a bag of chips, her hand deep inside of it to scour its contents. The bus drove off.

Pearl seemed exasperated judging by the way she was pinching the bridge of her nose. “Amethyst,” she said to the girl, who had sidled up in front of her, looking bored. “You’re in the Pink Cabin again.”

“Sweet.” The girl trudged over to where Peridot was still standing. “Yo, P-Dot, whattup? What’d you do to your head?”

“ _Nothing_ , Amethyst.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be in Yellow?” Amethyst asked. She crushed her empty chip bag into a ball and threw it over her shoulder into the fire pit. At least, Peridot _assumed_ she had been aiming for the fire pit; she had missed.

“I’m a counselor this year.”

“Psh.” Amethyst bumped shoulders with her as she passed, sitting down next to Steven and ruffling his head of thick, black hair. “Once a Yellow, always a Yellow, am I right?”

Pearl had started walking back to the main group, folding the empty cardboard box under her arm with her clipboard. Peridot looked at the cluster of people that had collected behind her. There were fifteen kids of varied ages and sizes and shapes, all tying pink bandanas onto themselves. She then glanced over the fire pit at Jasper, behind whom were the weirdest, mismatching kids wearing their own yellow bandanas. Jasper winked at her.

“Welcome!” Pearl twittered as Peridot held in a resigned sigh. “Welcome, one and all, new friends and old, to Camp Hidden Gem! Let’s have—”

A multitude of voices rang in to join Pearl, the ones behind Peridot being the loudest of all. “— _the best summer ever_!”

\---

How it escaped Peridot that becoming a counselor was an actual job where she was actually responsible for actual children—rather than a mere excuse to come back to camp as an adult—she’ll never know. But that fact had been made horribly obvious many, many times over the course of the day before she was allowed to crash onto a bench in the dining room.

“My legs hurt,” she groaned into the table where she’d just faceplanted. “Even my fake legs hurt.”

“What about the ones the doctors sawed off, do those hurt?” Jasper asked. Although Peridot couldn’t see her friend’s mouth, she was certain there was food in it.

“Yeah,” she grumbled. “Those too.”

Jasper chuckled. “Don’t sweat it, Per. You only gotta last, what, two more months?”

Peridot weakly lifted her head to look around the room, which was swarming with activity and upbeat chatter. She then looked up at her friend and asked, “How are they not tired?”

Jasper shrugged her shoulders as she ripped apart a dinner roll. “I don’t know, they’re kids?”

“ _I_ was a kid! I was a kid up to last year!” She straightened up to gesticulate wildly with her hands. “I’ve been to this camp every year since we were _eight_ , Jasper, and I know _for certain_ —”

“See, here’s the thing,” Jasper said, lips pursed in an obvious attempt not to smile. “All of those years? You never did anything except sit around and play your video games, huh?”

Peridot felt an intense heat rising into her cheeks. She tried to cover it by picking up her fork and stabbing at her food (a little harder than was absolutely necessary, perhaps). “Well. _Excuse_ me for being disabled.”

Jasper barked out a laugh. “You’re not disabled, you’re lazy.” After catching the withering stare Peridot was throwing her way, she corrected, “I mean, _yeah_ , of course you’re disabled. But you can still walk, can’t you? And I’ve seen you run. These things—” Jasper kicked Peridot’s boot under the table. “—aren’t keeping you from doing anything you _want_ to do.”

“Whatever,” Peridot scoffed. However, she scraped her fork a little more softly around her plate.

“ _Whatever_ ,” Jasper repeated in a nasally voice, although there was no malice in it. “Don’t worry, Per, starting tomorrow you don’t have to chase the little monsters around so much. You can just escort them to their classes, sit on the sidelines, and brood like you always do.”

Feeling an powerful need to change the subject, Peridot asked, “So where’s _Lazuli_?”

Jasper looked up, a grin playing on her features. “Why, you miss her?” When Peridot didn’t respond, she continued, “She volunteered to help the old bat in the kitchen. She’s going to the fire with us, though.”

“Oh, how _charming_.” Peridot dropped her fork onto her plate and sunk her forehead back onto the table. “I’m not going anyway. I’m going to bed.”

Peridot heard Jasper hum, and then heard a scraping on her own plate that indicated Jasper had started on her unfinished meal. “How long are you gonna avoid her?”

Peridot just grunted and halfheartedly shrugged her shoulders.

“Per, look at me.”

The seriousness in Jasper’s voice forced her to peer up. For a moment, her friend’s face was firm—but within a nanosecond Jasper eyes flicked to something behind Peridot, and the expression melted. Peridot knew what was coming before she even heard her voice.

“Hey, you,” Lapis sighed, passing Peridot and sidling up to Jasper. She leaned forward to plant a kiss on her lips. “Hey, Peridot,” she said, smiling that annoying soft smile of hers.

“I’m going to bed,” Peridot repeated, shoving the bench out from under her as she stood. Her thighs ached with the effort.

“Oh,” Lapis said, turning to watch her. She looked disappointed. “Are you not coming to the fire tonight?”

“No, I don’t think I will.” Peridot brushed past her. “Good night, Jasper,” she said, and she walked out of the Temple and down the steps.

She almost fell up the stairs to Pink Cabin from sheer exhaustion. And the sight that greeted her upon opening the door did nothing to lift her spirits. There were bags and clothes strewn everywhere—over the floor, across the beds. When she almost tripped over a lone shoe by the entrance, she gave it a voracious kicked, which only served to make the ends of her legs ache more.

A little gasp and an “Oh!” caught her attention. Peridot scanned the room and discovered, on the bottom bunk of the bed closest to her own, were Steven and Connie sitting cross-legged facing each other.

“Uh. Sorry.” Peridot clomped over to her bed, sitting at the edge of it and resting her face in her hands to rub at her temples.

“Are you okay?” Steven asked as he leaned over to put his hands on the foot of her bed. His knees were still on his own bed, forming a little human bridge between them.

“Peachy.”

“Okay. Do you want to play cards with us?”

“No. Thank you.”

“Okay.” The boy clumsily backed up so that he was entirely on his own bed again, and then turned back to face the girl. “Anyway. Go fish!”

Peridot leaned under her bed to retrieve her laptop, placing it on her thighs and opening a word document.

“Log date 060615. Children are awful. Camp is awful. But most of all, Lapis Lazuli is awful.” The glare from the screen made her eyes ache. She closed them for a moment, only reopening them after a minute to type, “Too tired to elaborate. More tomorrow.” And then Peridot shut her laptop, sliding it back under her bed.

“Peridot, can I ask you a question?”

“You just did.”

Steven let out a deep belly laugh. “You’re funny.” After a moment, “Um. Are those… Do you sleep in those?” He was pointing at her legs.

“No, I don’t.”

Much quieter, tension straining his voice, “ _Can I watch you take them off_?”

“ _Steven_!” Connie scolded, lightly slapping his shoulder. Her mouth had dropped open and her eyes were wide; she looked mortified.

Steven didn’t look mortified, though. He looked honestly curious.

Peridot sighed, “Why not?” And she leaned over to unlatch the plastic knob at her knees.

The boy stared at her, starry-eyed and reverent. “You’re _so_ _cool_.”

\---

When Peridot lumbered out of bed and into the Temple the next morning, Jasper and Lapis were already sitting at the table with their backs faced away from the door, Lapis’s head leaned against Jasper’s shoulder. Peridot stopped in her tracks and considered that it wasn’t too late to turn around and walk back down the steps.

But then Amethyst, who had sat herself at the staff table next to Garnet, cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted, “ _Yo, Peri-dactyl!_ Move it or lose it!”

Peridot looked behind herself to see a couple of smaller kids grouped together. She was standing in the middle of an aisle between tables and nobody was daring to try to move around her. When she looked back up at the staff table, both Jasper and Lapis had turned in their seats to stare at her, the former having raised her hand in a welcoming gesture. Peridot’s feet felt like lead as she stepped forward to sit across from them.

“Per! You missed a hell of a bonfire last night,” Jasper chuckled. Her eyes glanced down at Lapis, who didn’t notice. She was staring expectantly at Peridot.

“Oh?” Peridot asked, leaning forward to snatch the apple off Jasper’s tray (she knew that this was the one piece of food her friend wouldn’t fight her over). “Why’s that?”

“ _Somebody_ ,” Jasper said, a grin spreading wide across her face, “tossed Pearl’s clipboard into the fire.”

“And by _somebody_ —” Peridot cocked her eyebrow. “—you mean _you_?”

Jasper started chortling so hard she momentarily choked on her food. Lapis, who couldn’t suppress a smile, thumped her hard on the back once. “Oh, man. You know me so well,” Jasper wheezed.

Breakfast passed uneventfully. Peridot responded to the conversation only as necessary (and only when it was Jasper who addressed her) as she ate, watching with slanted eyes as her friend would grab Lapis’s hand, or touch her shoulder, or lean to say something quietly in her ear. To Lapis’s credit, she at least looked a little embarrassed when this would happen. Not, of course, that this had any effect on Peridot’s opinion of her.

What was it that Jasper had wanted to say last night? Any hint of seriousness was missing from her now. Peridot shrugged internally, dropping it as forgotten.

Eventually, Pearl stood up at the front of the room (complete with a remarkably unsinged clipboard) and announced that it was time for class to begin. “Meet your counselors and your instructors outside! They will escort you to your assigned location!”

Peridot, Jasper, and Lapis collected themselves and made their way out the door, dodging between swarms of children.

“Where do you think she got the new clipboard?” Lapis asked, looking up at her girlfriend as they walked.

Before Peridot could stop herself, she responded, “Have you met Pearl? Of course she has backups.” And then she felt her face immediately become stricken with heat. She peeked over at Lapis, who was beaming back at her, and then stared back at the ground.

“All right,” Jasper said, leaning down to kiss Lapis and apparently oblivious of what just took place. “I’m over there. I’ll see you guys later.” And then she walked over to the other end of the fire pit, where Garnet and fifteen kids wearing yellow bandanas stood.

“Are all your kids here?”

Peridot looked over at Lapis, feeling confused. Then she looked around, counting out fifteen kids wearing pink bandanas. And swimsuits.

 _Oh_ , that’s right. Pink Cabin’s first lesson was at the lake.

And lo and behold, just Peridot’s luck, she remembered that _that_ particular instructor was Lapis.

“Yeah,” Peridot grumbled, turning on her heel and walking towards the path that led down to the lake. “Let’s go then.”

The kids eventually realized that their counselor had started to walk away from them, and they all hurried to catch up to her. Amethyst—her pink bandana tying up her long, thick hair—walked with Steven and Connie, both of whose bandanas were worn around their necks as kerchiefs. The Blue Cabin counselor—a boy with light blonde hair, who wore a hoodie over his camp t-shirt—followed as well, bringing with him fifteen kids wearing blue bandanas. The campers intermingled, laughing and pointing out interesting sights to each other.

Someone fell into step with Peridot. She already knew who it was before they spoke.

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you,” Lapis said quietly. When Peridot didn’t respond or even look at her, she continued. “I just wanted to say sorry. Again. I know that what I did—how I responded—well. It was rude of me.”

If only to get her off her back, Peridot sucked in a deep breath and replied, “Apology accepted.”

She hadn’t realized Lapis had been holding so much tension in her shoulders until they dropped. “I’m so glad. It’s just that I know how important you are to Jasper.”

At this, Peridot stumbled a bit. “Oh. Yeah. Well.”

“And she’s important to me,” Lapis said. She tucked her blue hair behind her ear again, revealing her piercings. “So, you know. I really would love it if we could start over and be friends.”

The path curved around a corner, which exposed a large dock and an even larger lake, which sparkled in the sunlight. Peridot stopped walking for a minute to appraise Lapis, who hadn’t noticed and instead kept moving forward. Kids started streaking past the two girls, shedding shoes as they ran and jumping into the water. Even the Blue Cabin counselor walked briskly to the end of the dock, ripped off his sweatshirt and the bottom part of the legs of his cargo pants to transform them into shorts, and excitedly jumped in.

Peridot’s blood wasn’t quite _boiling_ , she mused. But it was close. And it became hotter with every step away from her that Lapis took.

 _No_ , Peridot thought. _Actually, I don’t think I’d love that at all_.

But then she remembered the tone in Jasper’s voice from the night before. _Per, look at me._ Peridot could now think of what Jasper had meant to say before Lapis interrupted, and it was probably along the lines of “don’t make me choose between you.”

 _But still_ , a voice at the back of Peridot’s mind reasoned. _That doesn’t necessitate your_ meaning _it._

Another deep breath as she took a step forward. And then she intoned, “Sure thing, _Paulette_.”

Just shy of the dock, Lapis stopped walking and turned around. “What?” she asked, eyebrows knitted together.

“ _Paulette_ ,” Peridot repeated as she approached. “Ever seen Camp Pining Hearts? No? I recommend it.”

Lapis still looked confused, but just as she opened her mouth to say something, she stopped. At the same time, a hand grabbed onto Peridot’s and tugged. Looking down, she saw that it was Steven.

“You coming?” he asked, still holding her hand in both of his own. He smiled impossibly wide.

“No,” Peridot responded, worming her hand away from his and tucking it into her shorts pocket. Steven didn’t seem affected by the movement at all. “Not a strong swimmer.”

“Okay!” Steven then turned to look behind Peridot and waved. “Amethyst, Connie, let’s go!”

A shout of “ _Caaanooonbaaall_!” and a rumble of footsteps preceded Amethyst barreling past, throwing Steven over her shoulder, and launching into the lake.

“Have a good lesson,” Peridot grunted at Lapis, clumsily sitting herself at the edge of the dock and pulling her gaming system out of her back pocket. She couldn’t help but notice that Lapis stood for an extra moment, looking dumbstruck back at her, before turning away.

Lapis peeled off her camp t-shirt and shorts, under which she wore a one-piece swimsuit. In the middle of her back was a tattoo—a teardrop, which branched off into a set of wings that spread across her shoulder blades.

Peridot rolled her eyes at Lapis’s back before returning her attention to her videogame.

\---

The lesson took up two hours. Apparently Lapis didn’t have another class for the rest of the day, because Steven had crawled back onto the dock at one point to ask Peridot if Lapis could tag along to their next class, which was art.

“I don’t think so,” Peridot said, looking pointedly at Lapis and speaking just loudly enough for her to hear. “I’m sure she has better things to do.” Lapis didn’t say anything in response.

Then there was lunch. Peridot sat across from Lapis and Jasper at the staff table, playing the part of good-pal-to-best-friend’s-girlfriend as well as she could manage. But Lapis didn’t talk much anyway. Peridot, however, frequently caught Lapis glancing at her from underneath her eyelashes, a deliberate expression forming over her features.

Then there was art class with Pearl as the instructor. The younger kids made paintings on canvases. The older kids just smashed hands full of paint on each other. Peridot sat on a counter in the back of the classroom, playing her video game as the Blue Cabin counselor sat silently next to her.

Then there was dinner, which passed in a way very similar to lunch. Peridot was in a good enough mood at the end of it—having spent the day fighting aliens and not being pestered by Lapis—that when Jasper asked if she wanted to go to the bonfire, she actually said yes.

Peridot sat on a log closest to the fire next to Jasper, who sat with Lapis on her other side. They barely had a moment to settle themselves in, however, before Pearl had marched up and stood in front of them, hands on her hips.

“ _Excuse_ me, Jasper,” she sniffed. “But could you join me in my office _please_.” Pearl then turned to stalk off without her.

Jasper pressed her face into her hands before getting up to follow her. She looked back at Peridot for a moment—“What do you wanna bet this is about me and the _disagreement_ I had with the creep who runs the nature class?”—before stepping away.

There was silence that joined the physical space left between Peridot and Lapis. The former was just about to stretch up her arms, fake a yawn, and excuse herself—but then Lapis spoke first.

“Actually,” she said, her voice sounding unnaturally sharp. “I want to have a word with you, too.”

Peridot was surprised enough to meet Lapis’s eyes full on. There was something behind them. And, unless Peridot was mistaken, it wasn’t friendly.

“What exactly did you mean when you called me Paulette? Before my lesson?” Lapis asked. Her eyes stared unflinchingly at Peridot.

Peridot’s mind went blank. “Uh—”

“Who does that make Jasper? Percy?”

If possible, Peridot’s mind went blanker as she felt a heat crawl up her neck and cheeks. “Oh,” she said. She forced a tight smile. “You _have_ seen the show.”

“Meaning that what you’re trying to say,” Lapis continued, ignoring that Peridot had said anything at all, “is that— _what_? I’m just a waste of Jasper’s time and attention?”

Peridot couldn’t have been more shocked if a real-life alien had come out from behind a tree and started shooting at them. But the way that Lapis was looking at her now, suddenly full of unbridled anger and something else that she couldn’t identify—it somehow made her want to fight back. She crossed her arms before she said, “Basically. Yes.”

Lapis’s eyebrows shot up impossibly high, opening and closing her mouth the way a goldfish might. Peridot reveled in the reaction she had garnered until Lapis finally said, “And what? _You’re_ Pierre?”

Peridot’s jaw dropped open in horror. Her voice was in the process of formulating a stumbled response when Lapis stood up.

Looking down her nose at her and, in a voice that elicited a chill in Peridot’s spine, said, “Okay. I give up. Go fuck yourself.” And then she left, stomping away behind the Pink Cabin and out of sight.

\---

“Log date 060715. Lapis Lazuli seems to have a stronger comprehension of _Camp Pining Hearts_ than originally anticipated. I fear I may have underestimated her. More tomorrow as events unfold.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peridot struggles with trying to be a good person and rectifying her situation with Lapis.

The sun was up (but just barely) when Peridot opened her eyes the next morning. She groaned and pulled the pillow out from under her head to smash it over her face in an attempt to will herself back to sleep. This was the fifth time she’d woken up since stomping to bed the night before, and frankly she felt she had enough to be frustrated about without adding sleep deprivation to the list.

After a few extra minutes, however, she gave the attempt up as a bad job and sat up. Peridot leaned forward to retrieve her glasses off the window ledge and then, as she placed them on her face, reached under her bed to grab at her handheld. With a glance around the room at the other fifteen (still sleeping) bodies, she turned the system on silent before opening up her game.

But Peridot was unfocused as she played. After a missed jump too many, she tossed the game aside and laid back on her pillow, staring at the metal slats above her.

Without a distraction, she was forced to think about the one thing to which she very rarely admitted: she might have, _maybe_ , been wrong.

After the anger had subsided the night before, Peridot had tossed and turned thinking—more about Jasper than anything (or anyone) else. How disappointed Jasper would be in her once Lapis told her what Peridot had said. How, because of issues that she _very_ begrudgingly conceded were not honestly Lapis’s fault at all, she might’ve just forced an ultimatum on her best friend that she wasn’t confident would work out in her favor.

Now deep in thought as she lay glowering into space, Peridot _had_ to acknowledge that, for reasons beyond her immediate comprehension, Lapis _was_ different. Jasper acted different around her, at least, in a way that Peridot would have to confess was an improvement. Jasper didn’t strut in front of Lapis, but rather held her hand and walked by her side. And, as far as Peridot knew, Jasper hadn’t yet beaten anyone to a pulp for even looking at her girlfriend, which had unfortunately been a pattern of hers in the past.

And although Peridot truly didn’t think of Jasper in any way outside of a platonic nature, she was one of the most important people—if not _the ultimate most important_ person—in her life. And with the internal strength equal to what she imagined it might be like for her to run a marathon without her prostheses, Peridot decided that what was important to Jasper was important to her, too.

 _Man_ , she mused. _I should write this stuff down. I can use it in my fan fiction_.

The kid in the bed above her shifted, which managed to drive her out of her own thoughts. Sitting up again, she dazedly glanced out the window. But upon seeing movement on the path outside, Peridot leaned her face closer to the glass and peered out of it more sharply.

Walking towards the Pink Cabin was—of _course_ it was—Lapis. Her hair was dripping wet and she wore a swimsuit under Jasper’s cargo jacket. Peridot also noticed that, swinging from the crook of her harm, Lapis carried a cloth grocery bag from which a folded, dry towel was peeking out.

When Peridot peeked back up at Lapis’s face, she held back a gasp and ducked below the window ledge just enough that her eyes could still see out into the trees. Lapis had been staring right at the window. Or, no—Peridot’s shoulders relaxed—Lapis hadn’t seen her, but was merely glancing at the building as she walked. But the look that crossed the girl’s face, one of obvious distaste, was unmistakable. Lapis walked down the path, around the corner, and out of sight.

Peridot’s heart was still beating hard against her chest as she turned away from the window and leaned her back against the ledge. She was relieved that Lapis hadn’t actually caught her spying, because that would just be one more thing for her to complain about to Jasper.

And then a thought occurred to her: had Lapis already seen Jasper since the campfire last night? The former had stormed away to the non-counselor’s cabin while the latter was still in Pearl’s office. And maybe Lapis wouldn’t have dared to sneak out to meet her because she had literally _just_ been lectured about it the day before? Maybe, _just maybe_ , there might be time to mitigate all the damage Peridot had already caused before it was too late.

Fastening on her legs as quickly as she could, she jumped out of bed and ran out the door, slamming it behind her so hard that she was certain she’d woken most of the Pink campers. But that was something to worry about later. For now, she hurriedly scanned the campground and finally located a head of blue hair entering the bathroom next to the Temple. Then she took off, bounding down the steps two at a time.

Peridot had already developed a stitch in her side when she slammed into the bathroom door. In the back of her mind, she noted that maybe Jasper was right about her not being so much handicapped as she was lazy. She didn’t immediately see anyone as her eyes scanned the bathroom, but she did hear the squeaking of a knob being turned and a subsequent splash of water. Hobbling to stand in front of the only closed curtain in the line of showers, Peridot took a moment to catch her breath and bring a hand up to rest on her ribs.

“Uh—” She tried to speak, but her voice caught. Then she cleared her throat and, in a voice deeper than normal, called out, “Lapis.”

There was a pause. Then, “Who is it?”

“Peridot.”

Another pause. Then the curtain was ripped back rather harshly. Lapis was still wearing Jasper’s cargo jacket (this time, zipped all the way up) and her face was set into a hard expression. “What are you doing here?” she said between tight lips.

It was at this moment that Peridot realized, in her frenzy to catch up with Lapis, she hadn’t rehearsed what she wanted to say to her. She stood where she was, staring dumbstruck at the girl in front of her. Peridot also realized that she had neither put her gloves on her hands nor—more pressingly—a bra under her thin tank top. The combination of all therein made her feel exposed. She took a moment to bury her hands underneath her arms, crossing them in front of her chest, before she continued. “Listen, I—um. I wanted to talk to you.”

Lapis mirrored Peridot’s pose as she leaned on the changing room wall, crossing her arms. Her eyes were still sharp, studying her from top to bottom. “Okay.”

Peridot gulped down a breath before she muttered, staring at the ground, “I apparently hurt your feelings.”

Lapis let out a derisive laugh. “How smart of you. Now if you’ll excuse me.” And she grabbed the end of the shower curtain to pull it back closed.

“ _Wait._ ” Peridot grabbed Lapis’s fist to stop her, which worked. The withering stare Lapis gave her at the contact, however, made her pull her hand back immediately to cross over her chest once more. “ _Look_.” She took another deep breath. “The thing that happened with, you know, my legs—I’m sensitive about it. I’m sure you can be sympathetic to that.”

When Lapis opened her mouth to respond, eyes still slanted in dislike, Peridot held her hands up to stop her. It worked; Lapis settled on pursing her lips.

“But I reacted poorly. Extremely poorly. I—” She took another gulp of air. The longer she spoke, the shallower her breath became. “I don’t trust people.”

“You trust _Jasper_ ,” Lapis interrupted. Her voice was particularly strained as she said the name.

“Jasper earned it,” Peridot replied simply. As Lapis’s eyes squinted impossibly further, she continued, “But that’s still no excuse for how I took my— _insecurities_ —out on you. I do trust Jasper. And she trusts you. So—” She shrugged her shoulders.

 _Oh my_ stars _, you wimp_ , she chastised herself in her mind. _Just tell her what exactly what you were thinking earlier. That stuff would work._

Instead, what she said was, “What I’m trying to say is that you’re not a waste of her time and attention.”

“Gee, _thanks_.”

“I hope you understand—” In a moment of bravery, Peridot stared straight into Lapis’s eyes. And then she looked immediately back down. “I _want_ to understand. I’m sorry.”

There was a beat of thick silence. And then Lapis asked, “Are you in love with her?”

Peridot looked up again. The extreme hardness had mostly ebbed away from Lapis’s features, but an intense, searching look remained there. “No,” Peridot said. “But she is my best friend.”

Another beat. And then, “All right.” Based on the tension still present in her face, Lapis remained at least a little hesitant. But it was a start.

Peridot couldn’t help the sigh of relief that escaped her lungs. “Good. So. Friends?” She held out her hand.

Although Lapis didn’t accept it, her eyes noticeably softened. “I’ll think about it.”

“Okay,” Peridot said, dropping her hand lamely to her side.

“I’m wasting water.”

Peridot had tuned out the sound of the shower behind Lapis while they had been talking. Remembering its presence, however, she glanced behind Lapis’s back and then down at her feet. Her swimsuit was discarded on the floor, and apparently had been this whole time.

Realizing that Lapis was naked under Jasper’s jacket made Peridot’s face flush impossibly hot.

“Right.” Peridot stepped back as the other girl closed the curtain. And then she spun on her heel and fast-walked out of the bathroom. Before the door slammed closed, Peridot heard a faint, humming melody emanate from the room behind her. She had to admit it was kind of pretty.

\---

Lapis wasn’t at the staff table at breakfast, which made Peridot’s heart skip a beat out of anxiety. Hadn’t her apology worked? Of course she realized that it hadn’t fixed everything. But she had thought it was time to cut her a little slack. Come on, she was _trying_ here.

She sat with her tray of food across from Jasper, who gave her a grunt in salutation as she shoveled eggs into her mouth. “Where’s Lazuli?” Peridot asked as casually as she could muster as she began on her own breakfast. She couldn’t keep herself from worrying that Lapis had told Jasper everything—about the day before, about stalking her in the bathroom—and that, as a result, she was about to get an earful.

But Jasper’s face spread into a satirical grin as she replied, “She’s growing on you, huh?” Turning back to her food, she chortled, “I knew she would, Per. Just don’t go getting any ideas.”

The tension melted away from Peridot’s muscles. Based on Jasper’s reaction, Lapis obviously hadn’t told her anything. And that was, admittedly, pretty cool of her considering how much Peridot felt she didn’t deserve it. Score one in Lapis’s favor.

“Anyway,” Jasper continued, “I ran into her on my way in here. She’s going back to bed until her first lesson. She doesn’t usually sleep real good at night.”

“What, is she an insomniac?”

“I guess.” Jasper shrugged her shoulders. Then her smile turned lascivious. “I mean, of course, I wouldn’t know too much about it. I don’t give her much chance to sleep, am I right?”

Peridot scoffed, but couldn’t keep a chuckle out of her voice as she pinched the bridge of her nose and muttered, “You’re defective. You know that, right?”

Soon, breakfast was over and classes began. The first lesson of the day for the Pink and Blue Cabins was on the field behind the Temple. Garnet, the sports instructor, simply threw a soccer ball into the middle of the patch of grass, blew on a whistle, and said, “Go for it.” And all thirty of the children did, running en masse into a skirmish before it broke away and an actual game of soccer began. Seemingly randomly (though Peridot had to concede that she knew zero rules about soccer so, really, who was she to know), Garnet would blow on the whistle and call out things like “offside” or “penalty.” But seeing as how she never followed up a call with any action or instruction, the game usually proceeded in the same, haphazard way. Peridot sat with the Blue Cabin counselor and Garnet on a bench on the sidelines, watching the game in contented silence. She didn’t even feel the need to pull out her handheld.

When Peridot got to lunch, Jasper and Lapis were already sitting at the table—but what surprised her was the Orange Cabin counselor seated next them. What surprised her even more was, as she sat at the table across from the three girls, the Blue Cabin counselor sidled up to scoot in next to her.

“You’re Peridot, right?” the Orange counselor asked. When Peridot nodded, she grinned and placed her hand delicately on her chest. “I’m Jenny. I knew I’d seen you around camp before, but we’ve never talked. And I know you know Sour Cream by now!” With a little laugh, she motioned at the boy in the blue neckerchief.

“That’s me,” he said in a monotonous voice, though a ghost of a smile graced his features.

“Jenny and me just had swimming with Lapis,” Jasper explained. “Oh, man, Jenny. Tell Peridot that story you were telling me about that _freak_ nature instructor.”

“You mean Ronaldo?” Jenny rolled her eyes. “Girl, that’s not even the _half_ of it.”

As the girl spoke, Peridot’s attention waned.  At one point, the counselor from the Red Cabin—“Buck,” he introduced himself with a tip of his chin—sat on Sour Cream’s other side. There were six of them now, grouped tightly so that voices and sounds of chewing intermingled into one large din.

Because of this, Peridot couldn’t help but feel a bit annoyed at the three newcomers’ presence. Considering how much Jasper seemed to be enjoying their company and the conversation, however—based on her being absorbed in their stories and making enthusiastic comments in return—this made Peridot feel kind of guilty. But she simply didn’t like crowds, and Jasper knew that—that was largely the reason that it had just been the two of them against the world for most of their camp experience. Like, come on, she’d barely just gotten used to Lapis.

As she noted this, she looked at Lapis, who looked engaged in the discussion as she absentmindedly stroked Jasper’s hand in her lap. But Lapis almost immediately looked up as well, meeting Peridot's gaze. She stared back at her for a minute before rolling her eyes, nodding faintly at Jasper, and then returning her attention to Jenny and her exuberant hand gestures.

The motion wasn’t hostile. Rather, it relayed a message. To Peridot, it had said, “That Jasper of ours. What a dweeb.” And she found herself smiling genuinely at Lapis for the first time since she’d arrived at camp.

Sitting grouped tightly together became a pattern for the counselors after that first lunch. They did it again at dinner that night, sitting Peridot, Sour Cream, and Buck on one bench while Lapis, Jasper, and Jenny occupied the one across from it. Even the Green Cabin counselor, the blonde girl named Sadie, stopped by to chit chat for a while; she was the sole counselor, however, who preferred to sit with her campers.

The six of them walked to the fire after dinner, but Peridot—still being who she was (i.e. socially awkward)— soon excused herself to go to bed. Jasper clapped her on the back as she rose from her seat on the log as they all wished her goodnight. Except for Lapis, that is, who nodded curtly before staring back at the flames.

\---

“Log date 060815. Jasper has made friends with the other counselors. None of them seem to pick up on how truly annoying this is. _Maybe_ Lazuli does, but she still doesn’t appear to trust me based on how little she’s speaking in front of me now. If I can manage to make up for being—well, frankly—a giant clod, she could prove to be an ally of sorts. Plus, I think Jasper would like that. So. More tomorrow.”

\---

Breakfast the next morning was the same, with Jasper chatting animatedly with the other three counselors as Lapis listened attentively and Peridot replied only when addressed. Maybe it was this one thing they had in common, both being a little antisocial in large groups—but Peridot couldn’t help feeling Lapis’s cold demeanor towards her very gradually melting away.

Not to say, of course, that their relationship wasn’t still awkward. Oh yeah, it was still awkward.

The third day of camp and the class cycle started anew, meaning the Blue and Pink campers barreled down the path to the lake (Sour Cream outrunning them all) as the two girls fell in step with each other at the back of the pack.

“So,” Peridot supplied. For once, she couldn’t stand the silence. While she usually found a lack of conversation comfortable, now it felt like a toxin that was seeping into her skin and making her twitch.

Lapis glanced at her for a moment before looking back down at the path. She didn’t say anything.

Peridot, as she realized was a pattern whenever she’d spoken to the other girl as of late, hadn’t planned what she was going to say. So she said the first thing that popped into her head. “You watch Camp Pining Hearts then?”

Once the words were out of her mouth, she felt an intense need to pull them back and swallow them again. What a _stupid_ thing to say, considering that the last time she’d mentioned the show was when she’d been angry and jealous and finally pushed Lapis to snap. _Oh yeah,_ Peridot thought to herself, _Good job with that._ She expected a scoff or some snarky comment in return, and braced herself for it.

What she most assuredly _did not_ expect was for Lapis so say, “Of course I do. That show is amazing.” Which she did. Either out of sheer relief or shock—she couldn’t quite tell which—Peridot barked out a laugh before she could stop herself. Meanwhile, the corner of Lapis’s mouth twitched, almost smiling.

“ _Thank_ you,” Peridot said, feeling almost _giddy_ at Lapis’s reaction. “Jasper doesn’t get it! She—”

“Is that the lame show with all the kissing?” asked Amethyst, turning around and pulling out an earbud to join them.

Lapis said, “Yes.”

Peridot said, “ _No_ , it is _so much more_ than just _kissing_. It’s _subtext_!”

She began to rant—a habit of hers whenever the show was brought up in conversation—but hadn’t even gotten halfway through it by the time the three girls reached the end of the dock. Lapis peeled off her clothes and swan dove into the water where most of the campers were already splashing around. When Peridot sat at the edge of the pier, however, Amethyst sat with her.

She stopped her Camp Pining Hearts tirade to ask, “Aren’t you going swimming?”

“Nah,” Amethyst replied, stretching out in the sun and replacing her earbuds. “If it’s okay with you, I’m gonna sit this one out today.” She placed her hands on her stomach and made a face. “Feeling crampy.”

“Sure. Why would I care?”

Amethyst made a “pfft” sound between her lips. “Because you’re my _counselor_ , Wondernerd?”

Peridot hummed. “I suppose I am.”

Amethyst sat up pulled out an earbud again, offering it. “Wanna sharesies?”

After a moment, Peridot said, “Sure,” and placed it into her own ear. “Thanks.”

Together they listened to the heavy rock music accompanied by occasional air drumming (Amethyst, of course) while Peridot watched the lake. As was the case in every other class at camp, a majority of the kids—and Sour Cream—were goofing off. But Steven and his friend Connie were attentive, practicing swimming strokes as Lapis would move their elbows or hands to correct them. Her wide smile didn’t drop from her face for as long as she was in the water.

Eventually, the campers started crawling back onto the dock to pull on their shoes and wrap themselves in towels. Steven made a beeline to Peridot to ask again to invite Lapis along to art, complete with clasped hands and batting eyelashes. Peridot glanced over his shoulder at the girl in question—who was just now getting out of the water—before looking back at him and nodding.

Steven started beaming as he rotated his upper body and yelled, “Hey, Lapis! Peridot and us _really_ want you to come to art. Do you want to go?”

Peridot’s face burned as Lapis looked over at them. The two girls locked eyes first, and then Lapis focused on Steven. “I don’t think so. I probably have better things to do.”

Steven, though obviously crestfallen, smiled at her and said, “Okay!” Then he trotted to catch up with Connie.

Peridot, however, recognized her words from their last swim lesson being thrown back at her. But when Lapis said it, there was no malice in her voice. If anything, there was the slightest hint of playfulness because Peridot—unless she was seeing things from being out in the sun too long, which was probable—thought Lapis had winked at her.

 “Dang, Peri, look at your face. It’s so red.” Amethyst pointed at her, chuckling as they rose to make their way back up the path.

“Sunburn,” Peridot responded, bringing her hands up to cover her cheeks. They were certainly warm, but they didn’t sting at her touch.

“Whatever it is, it is _not_ helping that honker on your forehead look any better.”

\---

Buck, the Red Cabin counselor, was very late to dinner the next night. Not that it affected Peridot at all, really. Regardless of Buck’s absence, she still ate her meal without speaking too much as Jasper chatted and joked with the others. Lapis would drape herself over her girlfriend’s arm and would smile and laugh at all the right moments, but she wouldn’t contribute much to the conversation either, choosing to speak only when specifically addressed. But Buck did saunter in eventually, after most of the campers had retired to their cabins or to hang out by the fire, and he looked very much like someone who was doing something wrong.

“Hey, guys, check this out.” He surreptitiously turned his head around to scan the room before he reached under his jacket to pull out two bottles of brown liquid.

“ _Whiskey_ ,” Jasper sighed as she snatched one of the bottles away from him, hiding it from view with her broad shoulders. “How I’ve missed you.” The way she stroked the bottle was almost indecent, to the point that even Lapis looked unsettled.

“Let’s sneak out to the dock!” Jenny said, clasping her hands together and looking excited. Then her face took on a very somber expression. “But not all at once. If six staff members disappear all at once, that’ll look suspicious. Everyone, go your separate ways, and let’s meet back up at the lake in twenty.” Her face broke into another roguish grin as she pushed herself away from the table and stood up. “See you there!”

Peridot’s plan was to go back to Pink Cabin, make sure no one would notice her absence, and then head for the path to the lake. But when she finally stepped inside, she felt the day’s exhaustion creeping up on her. Being so close to her bed while there were so many other sleeping bodies already settled in—it was _calling_ to her.

“Hey, home girl,” said a voice from above that jarred Peridot from her longing state. It was Amethyst, lazing in a top bunk near the door and reading a magazine. “You going to bed now?”

Peridot thought about saying yes because, oh my _stars_ , how much she _wanted_ to say yes. But part of her really missed Jasper—she felt like they hadn’t properly hung out since camp started and she’d take any time she could get with her, even if other people were included. And the other part of her couldn’t help but imagine that she’d feel bad knowing she left Lapis to be the odd one out on her own. Peridot shook her head and said, “Not yet. How long are you going to be awake?”

“Psh, probably a while, why?”

“Would you keep an eye on—” she nodded towards the beds, from which snores were drifting.

A mischievous look crept across Amethyst’s face. “Where are you going, Peri?”

Peridot opened the cabin door and began to step out, upper body twisted around to keep her eye on the other girl. “Oh, nowhere. But—” She creeped farther out onto the porch. “—if there’s an emergency, come and get me at the lake.”

As she stepped quickly away from the threshold, she heard Amethyst holler, “ _What_! I wanna come!”

“Next time!” she hissed back, making a hand motion to try to indicate that she wanted her to shut up, and then she hobbled down the steps and around the back of the cabin.

As she walked down the path, Peridot inwardly thanked herself for her continued habit of wearing her gloves, because she was certain that she was going to trip over something at some point and pitch forward. But she worked her way down to the dock slowly enough that she succeeded in getting there without any real mishap. She was the last one there, the five others already sitting in a circle at the edge of the pier.

“Per!” Jasper called, giving her a huge smile and cracking open the first bottle of whiskey. “I thought you were gonna ditch us.” She took a swig without pulling a face afterward (Peridot had to admit, she respected her talent for drinking alcohol). Then Jasper, grin growing wider by the second, held out the bottle to her. “I’m so proud of you.”

Peridot clumsily sat between Jasper and Sour Cream before accepting the bottle, taking a sip, trying not to gag, and passing it on. “ _That_ is pure moonshine.”

“Probably,” Buck conceded. He then accepted the drink from Sour Cream, drank a mouthful, and passed it to Jenny, who drank and passed it to Lapis, who drank and passed it back to Jasper. When it was Peridot’s turn for the bottle again, she cringed—but took another drink all the same. As she pulled it away from her lips, she noticed Lapis put her hand into the pocket of her jacket (or, rather, Jasper’s cargo jacket) to pull out a pack of cigarettes and light one up.

The group’s chatter grew louder as the bottle made its rounds and every so often Jenny, who was fighting back laughter herself, would place her fingers to her lips and shush them. And the more times the whiskey made its way around the circle, the more likely this action was to achieve the complete opposite result. Peridot, meanwhile, was suddenly having the time of her life. She felt energetic, probably due in part to the warmth that was spreading from her stomach to the tips of her extremities. But most surprisingly of all, she was _talking_ to people who weren’t necessarily Jasper and without needing to be specifically addressed. In fact, she was the one who was guilty most often of raising her voice a notch too loud.

The most recent time Jenny made the familiar shushing motion, Peridot barked out a deep laugh that was quickly trailed by a snort. The group started wheezing along with her, with Jenny still making wild hand gestures. “ _Shh_ , you guys, come _on_. The non-counselor cabin is, like, right there. We’re gonna get busted.”

Lapis, in contrast with Peridot, had withdrawn into herself more than usual—which was why it was so surprising when she spoke for the first time since they’d arrived at the lake. “Nah, we’re probably fine,” she said quietly. “Pearl sleeps in her office more often than not. And Garnet wouldn’t snitch.”

“It’s just the three of you?” Jenny asked, eyes glancing towards the small path that branched off from the one that led back to the Temple.

Lapis nodded. She took a puff of another cigarette, and on the exhale said, “The other instructor’s from Beach City, isn’t he? I don’t know, I guess he goes home every night.”

“Then _why_ —” Jasper’s words slurred as she leaned her head closer to Lapis’s ear and grasped her gently by the chin. The more times the whiskey made its way around the circle, the handsier she became. “—have we not snuck out to meet up yet?”

Peridot was distracted from Lapis’s answer when she heard a voice to her left say, “Man, you’re like an entirely different person.”

She whipped around to find Sour Cream looking blearily back at her, obviously just having addressed her. “Oh,” she laughed, “Yeah. I don’t get drink—I mean, I don’t drink often.”

“That’s no big deal,” Sour Cream smiled back at her, “You’re cool either way. What I meant is, like, you’re _literally_ a different person.”

Peridot stared at him, trying to rearrange his words in her head to something that made sense. Had they come out in a jumble, or was that her mind switching them around? She was mildly conscious of Buck cracking open the second bottle of whiskey, drinking from it, and passing it to Jenny.

“W—Wait,” Peridot said, mouth slack in a lazy grin. She thought for another few moments. Her brain was sleepy. “What?”

“I think I came to camp for the first time the same year you did, right?”

 _Oh_. Peridot didn’t remember _that_ necessarily but, despite the haziness of her mind, she did know exactly where this was going and her heartbeat quickened for it. A heat crept up her neck. She glanced around the circle once, trying to assess who all was paying attention. Even her fingers were becoming too hot for comfort.

Too soon, Sour Cream finished, “Like, no offense, but you still had legs then, huh?”

Suddenly, the circle was silent, and it felt as if all eyes were individually boring into her skin. The base of her knees—where flesh met plastic—pulsed. She forced a laugh; it came out loud and, at least to herself, hollow. “Oh. Yeah! I sure did!”

“What happened?” said another voice, which was followed by the sound of a slap. Peridot looked over to see Buck rubbing his forearm while Jenny stared daggers at him.

“No—no, it’s okay!” Peridot tried to make her voice sound cheery, even though her throat felt oddly thick. Could alcohol congeal? Was she about to choke? She swallowed. “Uh. Car accident. Right after school got back. Wasn’t wearing a seatbelt, so.”

The quiet that swept over them was thick and seemed to shiver with anticipation. It was broken by Jenny’s voice, sounding dumbstruck, “That’s heavy.”

Peridot felt something bump her right shoulder, and looked over to see Jasper offering her the bottle of whiskey. She accepted it, sighed. “Yep.”

She brought the bottle up to her lips, then paused. She had glanced over her best friend’s shoulder, from where Lapis was staring directly at her. For an infinitesimal moment, Peridot examined the way she had been in the middle of bringing her cigarette up to her mouth and how it now hung limply between her fingers. And then Peridot took an extra-long drag from the bottle before passing it on.

\---

The next morning, Peridot decided to skip breakfast. After getting back to the cabin extremely late at night—and, of course, considering that she had drank at least a third of a bottle of whiskey on her own—her eyelids felt as if they’d been sewn together. And when she had managed to pry them apart and attempted to sit up, the world pitched forward.

“Are you all right?”

After gingerly laying herself back on her pillow, Peridot cracked open one of her eyes again. Steven and Connie were hovering nearby, looking concerned. And they were spinning. At least, they _looked_ like they were spinning.

“Yeah,” Connie added. “You look rather sick. What are your symptoms? I can call my mom, she’s a doctor!”

“I’m fine,” Peridot snapped. Then she took a deep breath, and with a softer voice, tried again. “I’m just tired. Go to breakfast, I’ll meet up with you guys before swim.”

“Oh, _tired_ , huh?” Amethyst had popped into her line of vision too, a smug grin plastered on her face. It was dizzying. “We’d better go, guys. Sometimes, when adults get really _tired_ , they can hurl.”

“I’m not convinced that’s true,” Connie said quietly. But Steven had quickly grabbed her hand and pulled her out the door, throwing a “Feel better, Peridot!” over his shoulder as he rushed them out. Amethyst’s laughter could be heard until Peridot was certain they’d made it to the Temple.

The extra hour was necessary. She spent the entire time rallying, allowing herself to rise and dress slowly while taking frequent breaks to get used to new positions. Also, she was thankful to be nowhere within the vicinity of food (lest Amethyst’s teasing became confirmed). But, most of all, Peridot couldn’t deny that she was glad to stay away from the group a little longer.

But eventually the hour was up and Peridot, miraculously dressed and puke-free, stumbled out to the fire pit to meet up with the campers. It was the sixth day of camp, which meant their last swim lesson of the week. So as soon as Lapis—with dark bags under her eyes—sidled up next to her and nodded to her silently in greeting, they took off down the path to the lake again. As they walked, Sour Cream fell into step with them. Peridot felt herself stiffen but, even stranger, would’ve sworn she felt Lapis stiffen on the other side of her as well.

“Hey,” Sour Cream said awkwardly, turning his body slightly towards Peridot. Before she could respond, he began, “I’m sorry. For, like, bringing up your past and your legs and everything. I want to blame it on being wasted, but that’s—that’s no excuse.” And then he stopped talking and looked down at the ground.

Peridot’s shoulders relaxed. “I appreciate that.”

“So—” Sour Cream extended his fist. “We cool?”

A chuckle escaped her before she could stop it. She bumped his fist lamely with her own. “Yeah, we’re cool.”

He smiled at her. “Okay.” And then he ran off to join the group of kids currently jumping off the dock, ripping the bottom of his cargo shorts off as he went.

Peridot chanced a glance at Lapis, who kept her eyes trained on the ground. “That was nice of him.”

Lapis took a second before responding. “How frequently do you have to deal with shit like that?”

“Oh.” Peridot shrugged her shoulders. “Depends.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What?” They reached the end of the dock, and Peridot stopped walking. “Why are you sorry?”

Lapis didn’t answer, she just stopped to peel off her t-shirt and shorts. She faced out towards the water, and Peridot got another look at her tattoo, the wings that spread across her back. Then Lapis looked back at Peridot, shrugged her shoulders, and turned to jump into the water.

During the lesson, Peridot sat alone at the edge of the pier. Every once in a while, Amethyst would lazily swim over to pester her—“Hey, Peri, are you seasick? You look a little green around the gills.”—but the company wasn’t unwelcome. She didn’t feel the urge to pull out her handheld, which ended up being a particularly good thing when she realized she’d forgotten it altogether.

When the lesson ended, the campers crawled onto the dock in a swarm to dry themselves off and start up the path. “Oh, _nasty_ ,” Amethyst said as she pulled herself onto the wooden deck too, “There’s a cigarette butt in the water. That’s sick.”

Peridot’s head immediately whipped over to Lapis, who was bent over, drying off her legs. At first, she was instantaneously regretful of the action, because it felt as if her brain kept spinning even though her head had stopped short. But—in hindsight—it ended up being worth it because at the same time, Lapis’s head had snapped up to look at Peridot, too. They stared at each other for a second, and then the both of them broke into repressed laughter.

Then she felt a tap on her shoulder and heard a quiet, “Peridot?” Turning, she saw that it was Steven, who then cupped his hand over his mouth to whisper in her ear, “Can we try to invite her one more time?”

Peridot looked back at Lapis, whose face looked strained from trying to pull a straight face. “Wanna come to art?”

Lapis’s smile broke out, beaming. “Sure.”

\---

“Log date 061115. Campers made friendship bracelets in art today. Lapis insisted on joining in, about which I was apprehensive until she produced a very convincing replica of Paulette’s friendship bracelet from Camp Pining Hearts. The attention to detail, right down to the braiding pattern and the intricacy of the blue beading, was _uncanny_. And then she let me keep it. I am confident that Lapis will prove to be a most valuable ally indeed.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the first week of camp draws to a close, Beach Day begins. Everything’s great until it’s not.

There was a buzz of anticipation across the campground on Saturday morning that could be particularly felt in Pink Cabin. The feeling of barely contained excitement that seemed to pulse from the beds lining the room woke Peridot up early. Sleep kept pulling her mind back, creating a weird half-world where she was conscious of reality while, at the same time, she struggled to fall back into whatever dream she’d been having. It was right at the edge of her mind’s eye, but she couldn’t remember a single detail of it.

Then there was a crackle that preceded a clipped, cheery voice. “Good morning, campers! Who knows what day it is?”

And then, all at once, the haze was shattered as fifteen children bolted upright and yelled in unison, “ _It’s Beach Day!_ ” This succeeded in shocking Peridot into full wakefulness. Over the intercom, Pearl gave the morning report and instructions: meet at the Temple, have breakfast, and then head to the buses.

Peridot clutched her heart as she sat up and tried to even out her breathing. Meanwhile, a little blob of blurriness suddenly popped into Peridot’s line of vision, and she could feel her mattress adjust as it crawled onto her bed to join her. It chuckled softly before it said, “Sorry, Peridot, did we scare you?”

Squinting her eyes a little bit, she could just make out the definition of thick, black hair and a big, toothy grin. It was Steven. “I’m fine,” Peridot said as she reached to grab her glasses and put them on her face. Her heart was still pumping a little hard for comfort. “It’s all right.”

“I want you to meet my dad!” he said, leaning his head even closer to her. “He’s really great and he works at the car wash and he’s going to come by around dinner to say hi.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Okay!” Steven repeated, and then he hopped off the bed. “I’m gonna get started on my sunscreen.”

Breakfast at the Temple was a madhouse, which was obvious as soon as Peridot pushed open the door and was slammed with a wall of sound. Campers were bouncing from table to table, a sea of loud, wiggling rainbow bandanas. She haphazardly stumbled her way past kids and collapsed at the staff table, where Jasper and Lapis were sitting alone.

“Hey, Per,” Jasper greeted, mouth (of course) full of her breakfast. “Happy Beach Day!”

“I’m gonna die here,” Peridot grumbled, dropping her head into her hands and rubbing her temples. “Every Saturday. These kids are a collective menace to my nerves.”

“Yeah, I don’t get it,” hummed Lapis, turning around in her seat to observe the crowd behind her. “Aren’t most of these kids _from_ Beach City? Why are they so amped?”

“Nah, not _most_ of them,” Jenny said, approaching the table from behind Lapis with the boys trailing behind her. All three sat in their regular spots. “But the ones that _are_ boardies are probably just pumped to go home and see their families for a couple hours.”

“Boardies?” Lapis asked.

“Locals,” supplied Buck, his voice dreamy as usual. “You know. Like the boardwalk. We’re boardies.”

“Attention, please, everyone!” The voice was particularly loud and shrill, followed by a screech of audio feedback. Swiveling her head around, Peridot saw Pearl not five feet from her, clipboard in one hand and loudspeaker in the other, hovering just in front of her mouth. “The buses have arrived! Now, please, in an orderly fashion, if you could make—”

The cacophony of voices reached an impossibly higher volume as the sound of benches being shoved back and running feet joined it. In a swarm, the many bodies in the room crammed themselves out the door of the Temple and down the front steps. Peridot and the others held back, shuffling towards the exit as Pearl hurried past them while simultaneously yelling into her megaphone, “ _Amethyst_ , you _cannot_ bring an entire plate of pancakes on the bus, _get back here_!”

Jasper bumped shoulders with Peridot. “What will you give me to toss that into the ocean before the day’s over?”

“More like what will I give you to _keep_ from tossing that into the ocean,” Peridot muttered, feeling a smile tug at the corner of her lips. When she heard Lapis laugh from Jasper’s other side, her smirk widened.

The six of them boarded the second of two buses together, Jasper leading Lapis by the hand to the very back seat. Jenny and Buck sat on the seat across from them, leaving Peridot to be joined by Sour Cream on the seat in front of them.

“Hey, let me know if I’m taking up too much room,” said Sour Cream. His droning voice contrasted with his arms, which he waggled around like chicken wings. “I’m all elbows, you know. Sorry in advance.”

“Oh, you know what?” This voice came from behind Peridot’s head and was punctuated by a sharp thump to her back. “Let me know if I’m kicking the seat too much, too. Restless leg syndrome. You understand.”

Peridot rotated her head to look at the back row of seats. Although her eyes barely cleared the back of her chair, she could see Lapis—who was giving a rather convincing poker face. Peridot narrowed her eyes at her, and was answered with another sharp kick.

“Oops, there I go,” Lapis said, feigning embarrassment by bringing her hand to her cheek. “Sorry.”

Jasper laughed uproariously as she draped her arm over Lapis’s shoulders. “You see why I fell for her. Her humor. That and, you know. Her slamming bod.”

Peridot didn’t reply. The engine of the bus revved, and they began to move forward. The rest of the campers cheered and started to chant: “ _Beach! Day! Beach! Day!”_ She caught Lapis wink at her and—thankful that the back of her seat would hide her grin—turned to face forward again.

\---

The ride only lasted five minutes, but by the time the buses came to a stop on the boardwalk in front of a stretch of businesses, anyone would have thought its passengers had been stuck on it for days considering the palpable desperation with which they spilled out. As if the shoreline was the finish line to a long and exhausting race, children sprinted towards it—shedding towels, shoes, and outerwear as they approached. One by one they crashed into the waves, joyous shouting just able to be heard above the sounds of splashing and sea gulls.

The high energy was infectious. As they unloaded themselves from the bus, Jenny caught Buck’s and Sour Cream’s hands and dragged them towards the water, laughing as the boys stumbled behind her. Lapis’s feet had barely touched the ground when Jasper suddenly scooped her up and threw her over her shoulder.

“Peridot!” Lapis yelled, somewhere between a laugh and a scream, as she flung her canvas bag away from her. “Take this! Please!” No sooner had the bag made contact with Peridot’s outstretched hands than Jasper had begun to race towards the shore, Lapis in tow. They crashed into the water together and disappeared under an incoming wave.

Peridot, meanwhile, had hiked the bag over her shoulder and begun to meander across the sand. She picked a spot with minimal pebbles and sea glass, pulled a large towel from Lapis’s bag, and spread it out. Then she dropped the bag onto a corner of the towel and clumsily sat herself down, briefly knocking her metal shins together as she settled. Finally, she stretched out, closing her eyes and allowing herself to get lost in the feeling of the warm sun on her face—if only for a moment.

That moment was quickly ruined when a splash of cold water doused her face instead. Snapping her eyes open, Peridot found Jasper standing over her. She had a wicked smile on her face as she wrung out her hair.

“See what you’re missing, Per?” she asked, chuckling and running off as Peridot made a move to strike out at her.

Lapis approached the towel too, looking only a little cross as she peeled off her sopping wet t-shirt and shorts. She wore her usual one-piece underneath. “Yeah, our clothes could’ve used missing out on that though.”

“Whatever, babe,” Jasper said, removing off her own t-shirt and cutoffs as she did so. “They’ll dry out, won’t they?”

So much of Jasper’s skin was suddenly revealed that Peridot’s immediate reaction was to look down. She quickly realized, though, that her best friend hadn’t in fact just stripped naked in front of the entire beach. Tentatively, Peridot looked up to observe Jasper, who wore a bikini that showed off ripped muscle after ripped muscle.

Unfortunately, Jasper seemed to have caught Peridot’s embarrassed kneejerk reaction—and, judging by the lascivious look on her face, she celebrated having done so. “What’s the matter, Per?” she asked, flexing her arms in front of her stomach so that they simultaneously pushed her breasts together. “Just hit puberty?”

“Stop harassing Peridot and put on some sunscreen, would you?” Lapis called from where she stooped over her canvas bag.

“Don’t need it,” Jasper responded, turning her body from Peridot to pose for her girlfriend instead. “I’m aiming to be tall, dark, and handsome by the end of the day. Emphasis on the dark.”

“Fine,” Lapis said, sitting herself next to Peridot to slather lotion on her own arms. “Enjoy your skin cancer.”

Jasper barked out a laugh as she dropped her pose to cross her arms. “You’re one to talk. Bring your cigarettes with you?”

Lapis lifted her hand to make a rude gesture at Jasper with it, but a grin played at her lips. Jenny then called Jasper’s name from the water, so the girl stalked off to join her.

“I’ll be back,” she said, waving her hand over her shoulder at Lapis and Peridot as she left.

“Peridot, do me a favor, would you?” Lapis asked. She twisted her body around to hand Peridot the tube of sunblock. “Would you get my upper back?”

“Sure,” Peridot replied, sitting up and accepting the bottle.

Lapis twisted back so that she faced the ocean. “Get a lot on my tattoo, I don’t want it to fade.”

Peridot first peeled off her gloves before setting them next to her and squeezing lotion onto her fingertips. Reaching forward to dap at the teardrop on Lapis’s back, she then used both hands to spread it over her shoulder blades, where the wings stretched out. Lapis’s skin still had beads of salt water on it. “What is this anyway?” Peridot asked as her hands moved across the tattoo, rubbing sunscreen into it. “Does it mean anything?”

“Oh,” Lapis said, turning her head a little bit to look back at her. “I got it when I was sixteen. It’s kind of a sappy story.”

“Okay.” Peridot was originally going to leave it at that. But something—she didn’t know what—made her change her mind. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me. But, you know. If you want to.”

Lapis’s eyes crinkled from her smile. “No, it’s okay.” Peridot could feel Lapis inhale deeply from under her hands. “When I was little, I kind of drowned in the ocean. Well, I mean, I _almost_ drowned.”

Peridot’s hands paused. She wasn’t expecting _that_. “Wait, _what_?”

“I was at the beach with my parents and I swam out too far, got caught in a current, and got dragged under.” Lapis’s head turned to face back towards the water. “Like, obviously, I didn’t die. But I was pretty scared shitless of water after that. You get it.”

“Yeah,” Peridot said. She fixed her stare on the teardrop between her hands. “I do.”

“So,” Lapis continued. “It took me a long time. But I convinced my parents to keep taking me back until one day I wasn’t scared to get in anymore. And then, when I was sixteen, I swam out to where that current had caught me the first time. And then I swam back to shore. And then I knew I was fine. So I used my old fake ID to go to the tattoo shop and get this.” She shrugged her shoulders; it had the effect of making the wings look as if they were taking flight. “It was kind of stupid. But I wanted it to symbolize, like, rebirth. Or whatever. It’s dumb now.”

“I don’t think it’s dumb.” Peridot found herself saying it with a lot more force than she meant to. Lapis looked back at her, eyes crinkled again in a smile. It was at this point that Peridot realized her hands were still on Lapis’s back, motionless. She removed them, feeling heat crawl across her cheeks. “You’re good.”

Lapis turned to take the sunblock back from Peridot. She uncapped it to squeeze some lotion into her palm, then began to massage it onto her thighs. “Sorry,” she said suddenly, her voice a little soft. Peridot’s mind still lingered on the feeling of her hands on Lapis’s back, and she felt a flash of anxiety that she’d made Lapis uncomfortable. But then she must have looked terribly confused, because Lapis continued, “I didn’t mean to make you feel awkward.”

“What?” Peridot asked, before recognizing what Lapis was talking about. “ _No_. You didn’t make me feel awkward at all. It’s just—Thank you for—” Her mouth felt dry. She gulped. “That was very personal. I’m just surprised.”

A small smile crept over Lapis’s face as she moved to knead sunscreen onto her shins. She shrugged her shoulders as she did so. “Well, I trust you.”

At that, Peridot felt a slight swelling in her chest. She let out a part-cough, part-laugh to try to relieve the pressure. “Why would you make such a miscalculation?”

Lapis chuckled, her smile growing larger. “You told me about your accident, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. I guess.”

“Plus,” said Lapis, who leaned sideways to pluck at the braid around Peridot’s wrist. “You’re still wearing my friendship bracelet. So—” She shrugged again, capping the bottle of sunscreen. “—I figure you’re harmless.”

Peridot twiddled the bracelet around her wrist with her free hand. “I’m _not_ harmless,” she muttered, turning her face so that Lapis could see her smiling back.

“Whatever you say,” Lapis said under her breath. Then she waved the bottle between them. “You should take some too. You’re paler than I am.”

“Gee,” Peridot intoned, accepting the sunscreen again. “ _Thanks_.”

\---

The rest of the morning was spent by Peridot observing others come and go between their makeshift campsite and the ocean. Shortly after Jasper returned, Lapis grasped her hand and pulled her off again towards the water. Peridot watched as they swam, and watched some more as they started a game of beach volleyball with Jenny and Buck. Sour Cream joined her on the towel then, and they surveyed the match in contented silence. At some point, Amethyst came by too to drop herself next to them and—between her complaints about Pearl and her boredom—shortly fell asleep. Steven and Connie were building an intricate and admittedly impressive sand castle at the edge of the water. And eventually, a small kid wearing a yellow bandana around his neck stopped in front of the towel, looking down at them silently—almost expectantly. It was just shy of unsettling. Peridot was about to ask him if he was lost, or if he was looking for Jasper, when he crawled forward to situate himself in Sour Cream’s lap.

“My little bro,” Sour Cream explained, patting the boy’s head. And soon the boy had dozed off as well.

It was peaceful for a while. Lulled by the soothing sound of the waves and seagulls, Peridot considered taking a nap herself. Her eyelids were half-closed, and she was barely conscious of Lapis laughing in the distance as Jasper scooped her up and spun her around in victory.

Then the screeching of Pearl’s megaphone cut through the sleepy air like a knife as she announced, “Lunchtime, everyone! Meet up with your counselors, and go eat wherever you’d like. In an hour, we’ll meet back up at Funland!”

If that hadn’t startled Peridot awake, then Amethyst’s jolting upright would have. “Oh, _yeah_ ,” Amethyst groaned as she stood, hand simultaneously going to her stomach. “Mama needs some fry bits.”

Sour Cream gingerly scooted his brother off his lap to stand up. “Make sure he gets to Jasper, would you?” Then he stalked off towards a horde of blue bandanas at the water’s edge.

Peridot had just barely begun standing when Lapis and Jasper approached. “Here,” Jasper said, extending her arm to Peridot, who grabbed it and used it as leverage to get up. Sour Cream’s little brother scrambled to his feet as well to stand very close to her. He barely came up to her thighs. “Hey, weirdo,” she said to him, stooping to grab her clothes off the towel.

“ _Jasper_ ,” Lapis scolded as she pulled on her own t-shirt and shorts. Once dressed, she smiled down at the boy, “Hi, Onion. Will you help me fold my towel?” He nodded fervently in response, and scampered to help her.

Kids slowly began to gravitate towards them until there were thirty altogether, a wriggling sea of pink and yellow handkerchiefs. Peridot turned to face her own campers, adjusting her glasses before she asked, “Okay. What do you guys want?”

“ _Fry bits_ ,” came a voice directly to her left. It was Amethyst who began to chant, “ _Fry. Bits. Fry. Bits._ ”

Steven, who had sidled up next to her, laughed. “Yeah! Fry bits! Fry! Bits! Fry! Bits!”

Soon Connie joined, and then a weird, almost sinister chorus of fifteen voices harmonized, “ _Fry! Bits! Fry! Bits! Fry! Bits!_ ”

Peridot could only pinch the bridge of her nose. “Let’s go then.”

There was a loud, collective _whoop!_ And then a herd of pink bandanas began to lead the way, chanting as they walked, “ _Fry! Bits! Fry! Bits!_ ”

“You coming?” Peridot threw over her shoulder at Jasper.

“Nah,” she replied, waving her off. “We’re waiting for Jenny so we can go to her family’s pizza place. We’ll catch up with you later.”

Then Lapis said, stuffing her towel into her canvas bag and throwing it over her shoulder, “Actually I’m going to go with Peridot, I think.”

“Suit yourself.” Jasper shrugged, then kissed Lapis quickly as she turned away.

“Excuse me,” said a voice next to Peridot. She looked down—just barely, because he was almost as tall as her—at a Yellow camper. It was the boy with the tight ringlets that she recognized from the first day. “Can I come with you? Beach Citywalk Fries is my family’s place.”

Before Peridot could answer, Lapis—who had just joined Peridot’s side—cut in, “Of course you can!” She then cupped her hand over her mouth to yell out, “Jasper! We’re taking Peedee!”

“Take him!” Jasper shouted back, not bothering to look behind herself as she threw her hand over her shoulder in farewell.

Peedee grinned before rushing forward to catch up with Steven, Connie, and Amethyst, who were leading the charge. Peridot hung at the back of the group with Lapis.

“I will never understand,” Lapis sighed, adjusting her bag, “why on earth Jasper signed up to be a counselor. She doesn’t seem to like kids very much, does she?”

Peridot chuckled. “Well, to her defense, they’re typically little clods.”

Lapis sighed harder, a reproachful smile crawling across her face as she did so. “Then _why_ bother?”

Peridot shrugged. “Camp was important to us growing up. We got to be together here.”

“I thought you guys grew up in the same neighborhood?”

“We did. But we went to different schools. I went to an all-girls private, Jasper went to public.”

“Oh, I’m sure she would’ve _loved_ to go to your school.”

They reached the boardwalk then. Lapis stepped up first, and then extended her hand to Peridot, who would’ve loved to say something snarky about not needing help if it was anyone else. But because it was Lapis, she accepted it. The skin on her hand was extraordinarily soft. Maybe being in the water all the time was good for hydration?

“Wait,” Peridot said once she’d landed on the boardwalk. “My gloves.” She hadn’t put them back on from earlier.

“I have them,” Lapis replied, releasing Peridot’s hand to pat her bag. “You want them?”

Peridot looked down briefly at her bare palms. “I’m all right for now.” Then they continued their trek down the line of businesses.

“How did you two even become friends? You’re so different.”

Peridot wanted to ask just how she and Jasper were different. But looking at their relationship from a third-party perspective, she could understand. The brazen and confident Jasper with her quiet, standoffish sidekick. Instead, she explained, “After grade two, our parents shipped us off to camp together. We were both put in Yellow, and we were the only ones the other knew there. So we bonded by excluding everyone else. You know. Jasper and Per against the world.”

“Of course,” Lapis said. The statement seemed to be loaded—most probably with the memory of how Peridot acted towards her when she first arrived, and after The Incident. But Lapis’s voice wasn’t cold when she said it. Peridot chanced a look over at the other girl, who was smiling her usual soft smile.

“Anyway, we hung out a lot after school after that summer. And then—” She stopped walking momentarily to shake her foot in the air. “—you know.”

“I do.”

“And then I think we bonded even more over being these weird, malformed kids. So when we came back to camp, and nobody really knew how to act around me, Jasper was there to put them in their place.”

“That sounds like her,” Lapis said, a note of affection in her voice. “Nobody ever bothered her about her skin though?”

Peridot couldn’t help barking out a laugh. “She wouldn’t let them.”

“ _FRY! BITS! FRY! BITS!_ ” The chanting, which had seemed to fade out before, reached a crescendo as they approached a shop on the corner. From the front of the group, Steven came barreling towards them, dodging between his bunkmates as he ran.

“Come on, you guys!” he said, grabbing Peridot’s and Lapis’s hands in his own. “I saved you a spot at the front of the line!”

“Yo, P-dot!” Amethyst hollered. “If you don’t hurry, I’m taking your place!”

As they were dragged along, Lapis started giggling. “You might not think much of them,” she said, leaning to speak quietly into Peridot’s ear, “but they seem to think a lot of you.”

“Another miscalculation,” Peridot replied, although a grin involuntarily took over her face as she said it.

Still pulled along by Steven, they stepped forward to the counter together, where a man wearing a visor around stiff, blond curls leaned through the window to greet them. “Hey there, guys,” he said. He glanced around Peridot’s shoulder—“Hey, Peedee. How’re you doing, son?”—before turning his attention back to the group at large. “What can I do you for?”

Before anyone could answer, however, Peridot felt a hand clamp down on her shoulder; it was clammy and unfamiliar. At the same time, she could feel Lapis stiffen beside her.

“Father!” came a weedy voice from behind them. Peridot swiveled her head around and recognized the nature instructor, who wore glasses and his family’s signature blonde curls. “Only the finest fries, if you please, for my friends here.” He leaned forward, his head now on the same plane as Peridot’s as he said more quietly, “On me.”

Peridot just caught the man mumbling something about how the orders would go on the camp’s tab anyway before she dropped her shoulder, making the boy’s hand drop as well. “I don’t know what I want.” She stepped away from him, and was pleased to see Lapis make a similar escape.

“Uh, me neither. Steven, you go ahead.”

“ _What_ ,” Amethyst moaned, “ _I_ was next.”

As soon as Lapis and Peridot separated themselves from the group again, Peridot felt the other girl release a deep shiver and cross her arms over her chest. “That kid skeeves me out.”

“I know. That was really weird.” Peridot nodded her head. “He’s never spoken to me before.”

Lapis let out a contemptuous laugh. “I _wish_ I had that problem. I’m so grateful that he doesn’t stay overnight at camp in the non-counselor bunks. I think I would have to quit otherwise.”

Peridot shot a glance over at the nature instructor, who happened to glance over their way at the same time. He smiled and waved at them flirtatiously. It didn’t make Peridot feel creeped out as much as it made her feel surprisingly warm. The angry kind of warm. “ _Why_?” she asked, looking back at Lapis. “What did he say to you?”

“Nothing really.” Lapis sighed, meeting Peridot’s gaze. She dropped her voice to say, “Jasper thinks Ronaldo has a crush on me, and I think she’s probably right. He finds any excuse to talk to me, or to touch me. Like on my back or my elbow. It’s just that he’s not picking up that I’m not interested, you know? His still trying is what really wigs me out.”

At that moment, a swarm of yellow, orange, red, and blue bandanas rounded the corner. Leading them was Jenny, who called out, “It’s right there, you guys! _Daddy, Kiki_! _We coming_!” Buck and Sour Cream followed her closely, and directly by her side was Jasper. The group of them waved at Peridot and Lapis as they passed, Jasper winking at and pointing finger guns at Lapis for good measure. The nature counselor—Ronaldo—blended back into the crowd of pink handkerchiefs as Jasper passed them. The movement might have been inconspicuous had Peridot not already been watching him closely.

Peridot waved back feebly, and chortled, “I suppose that’s what Jasper’s for, huh?”

Lapis raised her hand in greeting as well. Her face looked half-happy—but also half-something that Peridot could only identify as concerned—as she waved. “Yeah. I guess so.”

\---

After lunch, Peridot and Lapis met back up with Jasper and the others. Together, they led their campers away from the line of businesses and towards the pier, where an amusement park stood sentinel. Along the way, the Green Cabin counselor—Sadie—joined the march, bringing with her all of the Green campers and an unfamiliar, older boy with gauged ears.

“Hey, Lars,” Jenny said as Buck and Sour Cream nodded their greetings.

“Yo, dudes,” he replied, running his hand through his hair in an obvious effort to seem nonchalant. Sadie rolled her eyes at him; she looked the way Peridot felt. Lars glanced over Jenny’s shoulder to appraise Jasper and Peridot—and when his eyes fell upon Lapis, they almost bugged out of his head. “Hey!” He forced a light laugh, leaning forward to talk to Jenny (though his gaze remained trained on Lapis). “Who’re your friends?”

“This is Jasper—” Jenny hooked her thumb over her shoulder to indicate them in turn. “—Peridot—” She jerked her thumb once more. “—and Lapis.”

“Lars,” the boy introduced himself, rushing to thrust his hand out at Lapis, who took it and smiled congenially. Peridot couldn’t help but notice, though, how Lapis’s eyes flicked to Jasper before she did so.

At that moment, Jasper stepped forward to grab at Lapis’s free hand. Her face was distinctly unfriendly as she said, “Hey there, _buddy_. How’s it going?”

Lars dropped Lapis’s hand and looked up at Jasper. He fingered the collar of his shirt before stuttering out, “G-good. S’all good.” And then he retreated back to Sadie’s side.

They continued walking together, all counselors and staff leading the group of kids down to the pier. But as soon as they crossed under an arch that welcomed them to Beach City Funland, they all scattered. Pearl materialized seemingly out of nowhere to shout instructions via her megaphone at the receding crowd. “Meet back right here at sunset! Then we’ll walk together back to the beach for the bonfire!”

“Where to first?” Lapis asked, gazing around at the attractions.

The smell of fried food was thick in the air, and the rattling of wooden rollercoasters was just distinguishable over the general hubbub. The familiar scents and sounds suddenly hit Peridot with an energized nostalgia. Her heart swelled in her chest as she leaned over to pull at Jasper’s sleeve. “Arcade?”

Jasper smirked down at her. “You know it.”

Trying to keep herself from running, Peridot led the way. Once inside the arcade—which was filled with bright lights and whirring, binging machines—she made a beeline to the empty row of skee ball lanes. Behind her followed Jasper and Lapis, and behind them came Jenny, Buck, and Sour Cream.

“Hey, guys,” Jenny said as Peridot dug deep into the pockets of her shorts. “We’re gonna go play the racing games, but let us know if you leave, all right?”

“Ah _ha_!” Peridot pulled three quarters from her front pocket, handing two of them off to Jasper and Lapis. “Warm up’s on me.”

“Warm up?” Lapis asked, pursing her lips in a clear attempt to not smile.

“Oh, just wait ‘til you see Per in action,” Jasper said, cracking her knuckles and readying her quarter in front of the slot on the machine. “This is her _element_.”

Lapis scoffed, her grin finally breaking out as she looked Peridot up and down. “Oh, I’d _love_ to see that.”

Peridot couldn’t help smiling back as she said, “Oh, you’ll see, Lazuli. Whoever scores lowest buys the next round of tokens.”

That person ended up being Lapis, who could only successfully throw her set of balls into the lowest two tiers. Second place went to Jasper, who averaged out at the third and fourth tier, making a single shot into the hole worth fifty points.

And then there was Peridot.

“I only lost—” said Lapis, fighting back a smile again as she dug through her canvas bag. “—because I stopped paying attention to watch you.” She pulled back her hand, now enclosed around a crinkled five dollar bill. As the three headed to the nearest token machine, Lapis shook her head in disbelief. “How even is it _possible_ that you make every single shot into the hundred-pointers?”

“A lot of summers,” Peridot sighed and stretched her arms out in front of her, making a poor attempt at sounding cool.

“I’m telling you,” Jasper added. She leant against the token machine as Lapis put in her money and tokens began to clink out. “All that time playing video games, you got ninja-level hand-eye coordination.” She fake-karate chopped out at Peridot, who blocked it with her elbow and began to fake-kick at Jasper’s stomach, tottering uneasily as she did so (either from balancing on a single prosthetic foot or from trying too hard not to laugh out loud).

“You two are such losers,” Lapis said. She pulled at Jasper’s forearm to lead her further back into the arcade. She turned around to motion at Peridot to follow. “Come on, I bet you can’t beat both of us at _every_ game.”

But Peridot did. And after two hours spent playing games and repeatedly throwing her hands in the air out of exasperation, Lapis gave up.

“Come on,” she groaned, pulling on Jasper’s arm towards the exit. “Can we go on rides now?”

“That’s a good idea,” Peridot said. “You can’t lose at rides. It should provide a nice break for you.” Lapis responded by flipping her off, causing Peridot to pull down an eyelid and stick her tongue out at her in retaliation.

“You _both_ need a break.” Jasper started looking around the arcade. “Let’s just find Jenny and them and let them know we’re leaving.”

“Here, you go do that. Give me your tickets.”

Jasper started digging through her pockets immediately, but Peridot clamped a hand over the ribbons of tickets spilling out of her shorts. “ _Why_?”

Lapis rolled her eyes. “ _I’m_ going to make _you_ two look good and use them to buy treats for your campers. You know. _Children_.”

After a moment, Peridot begrudgingly pulled her tickets from her pocket and handed them over. Lapis then turned on her heel and made her way towards the prize counter.

Jasper and Peridot weaved their way around machines for only a few minutes before they found Jenny and Sour Cream playing air hockey, Buck watching dutifully from the sidelines.

“Yo,” Buck greeted quietly, nodding his head at the two girls. “Jasper, you want next with me?”

Peridot said, “We’re leaving, actually.”

But then Jasper looked down at her with a mischievous grin. “Lapis won’t mind if we stay for _one_ game.”

“I think you’re overconfident in Lapis’s patience,” Peridot muttered back.

At that moment, the clacking of plastic on metal and a cheer indicated Sour Cream’s victory. He held his hands straight up in the air as he backed away from the table.

“Go keep her company then!” Jasper said, taking Jenny’s place. “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

Peridot heaved a great sigh as she turned around to make her way through the arcade once more. Within a few moments the prize counter was in sight and there was Lapis, leaning her elbows on the glass and looking down at the assortment of colorful candy and toys.

But she wasn’t alone. Sadie’s friend Lars was leaning against the counter too, pointing at something on the top shelf of the glass cabinet and mumbling something. As Peridot approached, she could hear that Lapis was laughing.

“Hey,” Peridot said, eyeing the boy suspiciously as she leaned her back against the counter on Lapis’s other side. She felt a sick pleasure over seeing him flinch when he heard her voice, and then noticeably relax as—Peridot was sure of it—he realized that she wasn’t Jasper.

“Hey!” Lapis turned to face Peridot, beaming at her. Then she looked around, her face growing more and more confused as she searched the arcade beyond. “Where’s Jasper?”

“Air hockey,” Peridot explained, still watching Lars.

Lapis frowned. “That sounds about right.”

“Hey, I gotta go,” said Lars as he pushed himself off the counter. “It was good talking to you.”

“You, too,” Lapis replied, swiveling her head around to smile amicably at him.

Peridot was surprised when he pushed out his hand towards her and said, “Peridot, right?”

She examined it with narrow eyes before accepting, giving his hand a single pump before letting go. “Uh huh.”

“Good to meet you, too. I’ll see you around.” And then he shoved his hands into his pockets and stalked away.

“What was that about?” Peridot asked as she watched Lars go.

“Oh,” Lapis said as she rolled her eyes. “He was just looking for Sadie and we got to talking. He seems really nice.”

“Oh, yeah. _Real_ nice.”

“Stop that,” Lapis scolded, grinning as she gently slapped Peridot’s shoulder. “He wasn’t being creepy, he was just making conversation. _Some_ boys get it.”

“I’ve yet to see evidence of that.”

Lapis chuckled. “Just trust me.” After a beat of silence, she added. “I told him _you_ were single though.” Peridot had no sooner dropped her jaw in disgust than Lapis’s serious expression broke. “I’m _kidding_! _God_ , you’re gullible.”

Peridot forced a small laugh, peering back out at the arcade. She could just see Lars and Sadie exiting out onto the main strip of the park. “Good,” Peridot mumbled. “Not interested.”

“No?”

Peridot turned her head to look at Lapis, who was looking back at her with a smile playing on her lips and—unless Peridot was mistaken—a different question in her eyes. Heat crawled up her neck as she replied, “No.”

“Okay.” Lapis nodded, still smiling, and looked back down at the glass counter. “Help me pick stuff out, will you?”

Ten minutes later, the muscular man behind the prize counter handed Lapis a bag full of candy just as Jasper came walking up to them. Her hair was wild.

“Sorry, babe,” she said, stooping to kiss Lapis’s cheek before standing upright again and pumping her fists in the air. “But you’re looking at the champion air hockey player in all of Funland!”

“Until Peridot plays you, you mean,” Lapis said as she shoved the candy into her canvas bag.

Jasper barked out a laugh. “Touché. Let’s go.”

The three of them left the arcade and, as soon as Jasper pointed out a tall rollercoaster at the far end of the amusement park, began to walk towards it. When they got there, Peridot saw that the line was so long that it spilled out of its normal, established queue.

She was about to suggest they do something else until the wait time died down when she heard, “Hey, Peri! You guys want back cuts?” Whipping her head around to locate the source, her eyes soon found Amethyst, who was halfway through the line and waving at them.

Peridot, Jasper, and Lapis began to make their way towards her, but then a grip on Peridot’s forearm made her stop. Apparently, Jasper had been grabbed too, because she and Peridot turned to look at Lapis at the same time.

“Hold on,” Lapis said, then cupping her hands over her mouth to shout, “Save us a spot, Amethyst, we’ll be right there!” Then she dropped her hands to grab Peridot’s and Jasper’s wrists again and began to drag them in the opposite direction.

As soon as Peridot noticed the photo booth nearby, she was sure that was where Lapis was taking them. And she was right. Lapis pulled back the curtain to peer inside of it. “It’s a bit small. Jasper, you go in first.” Jasper obliged, squeezing her shoulders into the cubicle. Lapis patted Jasper’s rear as she passed her. “Okay, Peridot, you next.”

Peridot stepped forward and muttered, “Don’t touch my butt.” Lapis guffawed in response. Once she was inside, Peridot clumsily edged herself onto the seat next to Jasper. The fit was so tight that their thighs were pressed completely together.

“Hey, Lazuli,” Peridot called out, leaning forward to see what Lapis was doing. “I don’t think this is going to work.”

 Lapis poked her head through the curtain and said, “That’s what you think.” Then she began to crawl across Peridot’s legs to settle herself on Jasper’s lap. Without any extra leg room, Lapis was forced to stretch out her calves on Peridot’s thighs. “Okay,” she huffed, un-wrinkling a dollar bill and stuffing it into the machine. “I left my bag outside, so let’s make this quick before somebody snatches it.”

The screen began to count down from ten, a mirrored image of the three girls staring back at them from behind the numbers.

“Say ‘cheese!’” Lapis said as she threw her arms around Jasper’s shoulders.

Peridot had barely fixated a smile onto her face before a light flashed and the screen started counting down again. This time, Jasper threw one of her arms over Peridot’s shoulders and pulled her in. When the light flashed a second time, Peridot was laughing. She looked at the screen to see the numbers pass in succession, and reflected back at her was the image of Lapis pulling Jasper in for a kiss. Jasper’s arm was still holding tightly to Peridot, and when the camera went off once more she was sure she’d been grimacing. Lapis started to laugh. And as the screen started counting down a fourth time, Lapis leaned over to plant a kiss on Peridot’s cheek. Peridot was just conscious of Jasper peeking her head up over Lapis’s body to be seen in the picture, wide grin plastered on her face. Then the light flashed for the last time.

When all three girls tumbled out of the photo booth, Peridot’s entire body was on fire (which she chose to blame on the close quarters paired with the summer heat). Lapis scooped up her bag and then tore two sets of pictures out of a plastic dispenser. Peridot and Jasper leaned over her shoulder to examine the photos with her.

Lapis and Jasper started laughing immediately. Lapis pointed out Peridot in the first picture, where Peridot’s glasses had refracted the light from the flash and looked opaque. Jasper was in hysterics over Peridot’s look of revulsion in the third picture.

“Here,” said Lapis, handing the second set of pictures to Peridot. “You take this one.”

Peridot mumbled a “thanks,” and they started to make their way back to Amethyst. The wait time was short once they’d joined back up with her, and before long they were crawling into the cars and pulling lap bars down onto themselves. But for such a small amount of time, Peridot was surprised by how often she caught herself glancing down at the fourth picture to scrutinize Lapis’s lips on her cheek and her own expression of panic mingled with something else that she could only describe as delight.

\---

Sunset soon arrived, and with it came the collection of campers and staff under the Funland arch. After each counselor did a quick headcount and all children were accounted for, Pearl led the way back onto the boardwalk and down to the beach.

“Here,” Lapis said gently as they walked. She handed a piece of candy from her bag to Amethyst. “Sucking on something always makes me feel better.”

Jasper mumbled something along the lines of, “That’s what she said,” which was answered with a half-hearted jab to the ribs by Lapis’s elbow.

“Thanks, L,” Amethyst responded, unwrapping the hard candy and popping it into her mouth.

“How many times did you ride The Teacups?” Peridot asked as she shuffled next to her.

“Eight.” Amethyst shuddered as she suppressed an ominous burp. “Worth it.”

As soon as they reached the shoreline, Lapis pulled the beach towel out of her bag and spread it on the sand. Amethyst collapsed onto it immediately.

“Let me know when dinner’s ready, okay?” she mumbled into the ground. “I’m starving.”

Peridot and Lapis settled themselves onto the towel next to her. Jasper, meanwhile, was looking off towards the pile of wood that Garnet was stacking. “Hey, Jenny and them are over there, I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” Lapis replied absentmindedly, keeping her eyes trained on the ocean as Jasper hulked away.

Peridot stretched out her legs in front of her. She could feel her pulse at the bottom of her knees. “I can’t wait to get back and take these off,” she muttered, reaching forward to massage the muscle above the plastic sockets of her prosthetics.

Lapis shrugged. “Why don’t you take them off now? I think we have time before we have to get up again.”

Peridot forced a chuckle and said, “I don’t think so.”

“Hey, you guys.” It was Sadie walking towards them, Lars still by her side. “How’s she doing?” she asked, nodding down at Amethyst. Amethyst, meanwhile, had begun to snore loudly.

“Probably better now,” Lapis replied, smiling up at them.

Just then, Sadie’s name was called out by a kid in a green handkerchief a distance away. “Oh, that’s one of mine,” she said as she began to walk towards the camper. “I’ll be back in a second.”

Lars stayed behind. After a second of awkward silence, he asked, “Mind if I join you?”

Peridot didn’t reply, but Lapis said, “Sure, go ahead.”

As soon as Lars had sat himself down, he crossed his legs and leaned back. “So, how was your guys’ day?” He seemed to be asking Peridot just as much as he was asking Lapis, judging by his making eye contact with both of them in turn.

Begrudgingly, Peridot decided to trust Lapis’s judgment. She answered, “It was good.”

The three of them talked for a couple of minutes about sights they saw and things they did—interrupted every once in a while by a particularly loud snore from Amethyst. And Peridot had to admit that Lars was just laidback enough for her to enjoy talking to him; he neither controlled the conversation nor did he require coaxing out. Honestly, Peridot was immersed enough in their discussion that she missed the heavy footfalls on the sand behind her.

“Hey,” came Jasper’s voice. Peridot glanced behind herself to look up at her best friend, and was startled to find an expression of great displeasure on her face focused directly on Lars. “What are you doing?”

“Hey, babe,” Lapis responded. Peridot could see that Lapis definitely hadn’t missed the look on Jasper’s face, but she wouldn’t have been able to tell based on her voice alone. “Lars and Sadie came by to check on Amethyst.”

“Interesting,” intoned Jasper. “Where’s Sadie then?”

“Hey, Peridot,” said an additional voice, accompanied by a tugging of her shirt sleeve. Peridot jolted—once again, she hadn’t realized anyone was approaching her—and spun around to see Steven standing above her.

“Oh,” she sighed, bringing her hand to her chest in an attempt to keep her heart from popping out of it. “Steven. What do you need?”

“My dad’s here,” Steven said, hand still holding fast to her sleeve. “I want you to meet him.” He then lifted his gaze slightly to look at Lapis. “Will you come too?”

“Sure, Steven,” Lapis replied. She stood up, and as she passed Jasper she hit her lightly on her shoulder. “ _Be nice_ ,” Peridot heard Lapis whisper. And then Steven started walking away, Lapis following closely behind him. “You coming?” Lapis threw over her shoulder to Peridot.

Peridot groaned as she clumsily used her hands to get up. “Yeah, I’m coming.” As she stepped forward to catch up, she threw a final glance at the scene she was leaving behind: a sleeping Amethyst, a sour Jasper, and a very nervous Lars.

Squatting by the newly established campfire was an older man, with the strangest combination of long, graying hair complete with a bald spot. Steven tackled the man, chuckling as he told him, “Dad, I want you to meet some people.”

The man stood up, leaving one hand on Steven’s shoulder as he extended his other hand to Lapis, who was closest to him. “Greg Universe,” he greeted, beaming fit to bust. “Nice to meet you.”

“You, too, Mr. Universe,” Lapis said as she took his hand. “I’m Lapis.”

“Please, call me Greg!” He released Lapis’s hand. “You’re the swimming instructor then?” When Lapis nodded, he turned his head to appraise and offer his hand to Peridot. “And you must be Lapis’s girlfriend!”

Peridot’s hand froze mid-extension.

“ _Dad_ ,” Steven scolded. “That’s _Jasper_. _This_ is Peridot, she’s my counselor!”

“ _Oh_ ,” Greg said, reaching forward to complete his handshake with Peridot. “My bad, kid. Sorry. It’s great to meet you too. Steven thinks the world of you.”

Peridot, face still hot from Greg’s slipup, looked down at Steven. He smiled rather shyly up at her, and her face grew warmer still—most decidedly in a not unpleasant way. “Oh,” she said, floundering for words. “That’s… That’s nice.”

“We think he’s pretty great, too,” Lapis supplied, glancing at Peridot once before grinning down at Steven for herself.

“Hey, I’m helping Pearl get hot dogs ready to cook, would you guys like to help?”

Lapis had opened her mouth—Peridot was sure to answer in the affirmative—when they were interrupted by a crack and someone hollering out, “ _Oh, shit!_ ”

Spinning around, Peridot looked back towards where the yell had come from—which unfortunately was the makeshift campsite they’d just vacated. Sitting up was Amethyst, who had her hand clamped over her mouth. Jasper was still standing, but now she was shaking out her fist and looking down at the crumpled body of Lars, who was laid out and bleeding pretty hard from his nose.

“ _Jasper_!” Lapis screamed. Then she took off running towards her, looking more furious than Peridot could have imagined was possible. From where she stood, Peridot could hear a heated argument between Lapis and Jasper start up immediately.

Peridot helplessly looked back at Steven and Greg—both of whom wore matching, stunned expressions. “Um—” She stopped and lamely pointed her thumb over her shoulder at the scene. “—I’ll be right back.”

As she stumbled quickly away, she heard Greg mutter to his son, “Is this a _normal_ day at camp for you? Because I’m not sure how comfortable I am with you going here anymore!”

\---

Jasper punching Lars had created a ripple effect of chaos. Most campers had scattered away from the action, while Pearl had basically flown over the receding crowd to bear down on Jasper. Lapis stomped away as soon as Pearl arrived, heading down the shoreline. Jasper pursued Lapis, and Pearl pursued Jasper. Soon enough, all three had disappeared.

Peridot and Amethyst stayed with Lars until Sadie came running over to check up on him. Jenny, Buck, and Sour Cream had wandered their way too, and they immediately began asking what had happened.

Amethyst hadn’t witnessed the whole thing, but she had arguably seen the most important part—so she relayed that to them. She’d woken up to Lars standing and trying to walk away from the towel. She wasn’t sure what he and Jasper had been talking about before, but Amethyst insisted that he looked scared. Then Jasper apparently grabbed him by the back of his shirt then, pulled him back, and—“Boom!” Amethyst said, slamming her fist into her other palm for emphasis. “Clocked him!”

“How did something like that even go down so quickly?” Jenny had asked, wide eyes looking immediately to Peridot.

What Peridot said out loud was, “I have no clue.” But what Peridot knew in the back of her mind was very different. She’d seen Jasper with girlfriends before. In the past, if anyone so much as looked at a girl of Jasper’s—let alone try to strike up a conversation with her—well. Jasper was possessive, and very quick to anger.

But more than anything else, Peridot was disappointed in her friend. The way she’d observed her acting with Lapis had been so different, so much kinder. Peridot cared for Jasper as much as anyone could care for their best friend, but on reflection, she couldn’t keep herself from noting that Jasper had made a personality change for the better. Or so she thought.

“Dinner’s ready,” announced Garnet sometime later, holding out a huge tray of hot dogs and effectively breaking the weird silence that had overtaken the campers. The atmosphere around the campfire was still greatly subdued though, filled with conspiratorial whispers and glances in Peridot’s direction.

Eventually, Greg walked over. “Mind if I join you?” When Peridot nodded, he sat himself down next to her. “You’ve been going to Camp H.G. forever, right?” She nodded again. “Is this a regular thing?” he asked. The look her gave her was verging on pleading.

“No,” she answered. “Honestly, it’s not.”

“Is that a regular thing for your friend to do?”

Peridot opened her mouth to answer, but before she could, movement beyond Greg caught her attention. She flicked her gaze at it briefly, and saw Steven edging his way towards the conversation—obviously trying to overhear what was happening. Connie held his hand and whispered something to him. He looked terrified.

“No,” Peridot answered again.

Greg visibly relaxed, his shoulders dropping as he did so. “Okay.” He patted Peridot on her shoulder. “Keep an eye on him, will you?”

“Sure,” she replied. Then she found herself saying, “Anything for Steven.”

Apparently satisfied, Greg grunted as he stood and walked back over to his son.

Lars snuck away at some point during dinner. And right as dinner and clean-up finished, Peridot saw Lapis and Pearl return, walking side by side. Jasper brought up the rear, staring expressionlessly into the back of Lapis’s head.

Pearl swiped her megaphone off a towel near the campfire and said stoically into it, “That concludes Beach Day. Everyone, head to the buses now. Please.”

Peridot watched as Lapis stooped to grab her bag off her towel and then the towel off the sand, flinging it over her shoulder before stomping towards the boardwalk where the buses were parked. Jasper followed closely behind her, and Peridot took that as her cue to follow suit. Campers and other staff joined quickly after.

The walk to the buses was somber—in such stark contrast to how the day started that Peridot thought it was almost funny.

Almost.

Lapis boarded the second bus, and Jasper began to climb up behind her before Pearl’s megaphone-voice rang out. “Jasper. No. You’re with me.”

Jasper heaved a great sigh before stepping down. She came face to face with Peridot as she headed towards the first bus. She remained silent.

“We’ll talk,” Peridot told her.

Jasper nodded, and then kept walking.

Peridot boarded the bus and immediately found Lapis’s blue-haired head, staring determinately out the window from the very back seat. An instinct of Peridot’s told her to sit somewhere else, anywhere else. But instead she sucked down a breath and made her way down the rows of seats. When she got to Lapis, she sat down right next to her. Lapis didn’t show any sign of being aware of this.

Eventually the bus was fully boarded, a head count was conducted, and the bus screeched as it moved forward. The silence was thick. Never before had Peridot felt so grateful that the ride back to camp was short.

Lapis did not acknowledge Peridot’s presence until halfway through the trip. At that point, she leaned back to rest her head on Peridot’s shoulder. Lapis was quite a bit taller than Peridot was, so at first she was distracted by her thoughts that the position must be remarkably uncomfortable for the other girl.

Then, almost inaudibly, Lapis whispered, “Thanks.”

And Peridot responded immediately, rotating her bracelet around her wrist at the same time, “Don’t mention it.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Camp H.G. reels post-Beach Day, while Peridot struggles to reconcile Jasper and Lapis (despite her inexplicable desire to not do so).

“Log date 061415. I spent yet another night staring at the bed slats above me. This is due mostly to my concern that, come morning, I will wake up to find that Jasper’s employment at Camp H.G. has been terminated. For stars’ sake, the only reason I return to this insipid energy-suck every year is because Jasper insists.

“Well, admittedly, that might not be true. But still. Jasper tends to make this place a lot more fun than it would be on my own.

“Of course, on the other hand, I might not be _completely_ on my own. Lazuli has been dragged along for the metaphorical ride as well. If Jasper does end up getting sacked, the summer might not be entirely lost.

“But I hope that Jasper _doesn’t_ get sacked. Plus Lazuli might leave regardless. And then I’d be alone.”

“Peridot?”

Peridot grasped the top of her tablet and pulled it towards her body—an automatic response. The cabin was still mostly dark, with the first few rays of sunlight just seeping in through the trees past the easternmost windows. She looked up to find Steven, resting on his elbows while still under the covers of his bed, looking back at her intently. His eyes were sleepy, but his face was set.

“Yes, Steven?” she whispered.

“What are you doing? It’s so early.”

“Nothing.” Peridot covertly moved her finger to press the standby button on her tablet. Once the screen was dark, she slid it under her pillow before turning back to the boy. “Why are you awake?”

Steven shrugged at first. His fingers were toying with a loose string on the sleeve of his pajamas. He stared resolutely down at it as he whispered, “Can’t sleep. I’m worried.”

Usually Peridot would’ve left it at that and told him to go back to sleep. But she was worried too. “Why are _you_ worried?”

Steven shrugged again, and then said, “My dad wanted to pull me out of camp. Jasper punched my friend, and even though she did that I’m scared she might get fired. Plus Lapis is _really_ mad.”

Peridot wished for the first she had the capability to be comforting, or maternal. But unfortunately, she was still just Peridot. So what she said was, “Your worries are valid.”

Steven sighed a little. “Peridot?”

“Yes, Steven?”

“Is everything going to be okay?”

Peridot allowed for a moment of silence before responding, “I’m not sure.”

“Are you going to leave if Jasper and Lapis leave?”

Another moment of silence, which was heavy with tension. Or maybe only Peridot noticed that. Steven’s eyes remained fixated on hers, shining with what she realized was hope. “No. I won’t leave.”

His eyes softened, then drooped. Peridot could just catch him whispering, “Good,” before he settled back down onto his mattress. Peridot didn’t move again until she heard a quiet snore emanating from under his arms, where he had buried his face. Listening hard for a moment longer, she noted a chorus of fifteen rhythmic breathing patterns filling the cabin. She reached back for her tablet and turned its screen back on.

“Anyway. The wake-up call will sound in a little less than two hours. I’m going to make a final effort to rest before then. I will know what Jasper’s fate entails soon enough, so I figure there’s no real sense in worrying about it now.

“I seem to remember Jasper saying something about Lapis’s being an insomniac. Maybe when this all settles down, I’ll ask her for advice on how to deal with it. It’s new to me.

“More later.”

\---

The Pink campers were more sluggish than usual as they left the cabin to go to breakfast, with heavy footfalls plodding down the steps. Peridot took a deep, shaky breath as she crossed the threshold herself. She kept at the back of the group on purpose in her attempt to put off seeing evidence that—she was convinced—Jasper was gone. Once she stepped into the sunlight and allowed her eyes a second to adjust, however, she was surprised to see a group of yellow bandanas in the distance already filing into the Temple. Her heart could have burst when she noticed the large figure with tied-up, thick hair lumbering after them.

And she took off, practically leaping off the steps and—after a klutzy landing—barreling towards her friend. She stopped just short of Jasper and barely resisted the urge to hug her. Instead, she put her hands on her hips and wheezed out, “Hey.”

“Hey,” Jasper replied. She looked down at Peridot, appearing both concerned and slightly entertained.

“So.” Peridot swallowed. She remained silent for an extra moment, assuming that Jasper was going to dive into an explanation. When she didn’t, she continued, “So. You didn’t get fired?”

Jasper rolled her eyes a little in response. “No, Per, I didn’t get fired. But I got pretty damn close.”

“So,” Peridot repeated, moving her hands from her hips in lieu of making a flailing gesture. “What _happened_ last night?”

Jasper opened her mouth to reply, but closed it immediately again. Peridot turned around to watch the Pink campers pass them by to enter the Temple. All of the kids in turn looked briefly up at Jasper and immediately averted their gaze. All of them, that is, except for Amethyst, who nodded up in greeting and said, “Whattup, Jaz.”

“Come on,” Jasper said, tipping her chin in the direction of Pink Cabin and then leading the way towards it. Peridot followed, taking a couple steps for every single one of Jasper’s. They sat on the stairs leading up to the small porch. Jasper looked down at Peridot, and then her eyes immediately shot down to Peridot’s lap. “Where are your gloves?”

Peridot took a second to realize what Jasper had said. When she did, she lifted her hands slightly off her thighs to observe them. They were bare. Lapis still had her gloves. Peridot was about to tell Jasper as much when she remembered that, maybe for now, it wasn’t a good idea to mention Lapis’s name. “I left them inside. Too hot for them.”

Jasper nodded once. Then she dropped her forehead into her palms. Peridot’s mind went numb when she noticed that Jasper’s shoulders were shaking. Was Jasper _crying_? Horror evolved into frustrated relief when Jasper pulled her face away from her hands, and Peridot realized that her friend _wasn't_ crying. She was  _laughing_. “Oh, man. You should’ve seen Pearl last night. Oh, she was so _pissed_. Her skin—” Jasper gestured at her own face. “—was getting so splotchy that—”

“ _Jasper_ , you _clod_.” Peridot finally reached forward to grab the other girl’s shoulders, turning them roughly so that they faced each other directly. “Tell me _what happened_ last night.”

Jasper, to her credit, swallowed her laughter. Her smile was still half-cocked, but her eyes were setting into a hard expression. She shrugged Peridot’s hands off her arms. “I gave that little punk what he deserved is what happened.”

“Oh, yeah?” Peridot scoffed, now crossing her free arms over her chest. “Because—what—because he had the audacity to talk to your girl?”

“He wasn’t just ‘talking’ to her and you know that,” Jasper said, a little harsher than Peridot was sure was necessary. “But, no, that wasn’t what it was. Well, that wasn’t _all_ what it was.”

“ _Do_ explain.”

Jasper heaved a great sigh. “After you two walked away, I started in on him about Lapis and how he shouldn’t be bothering her. That snot-nosed _runt_ starts going—” Jasper’s voice went up an octave as she imitated Lars. “—‘it’s not what it looks like’ and ‘I’m just trying to be friendly.’ And we go back and forth like that a while and eventually I tell him to get lost. But _then_ , as he’s getting up to leave, he mumbles, ‘You all give women a bad name.’”

After a pause, Peridot asked quietly, “ _Who_ all?” But she felt her chest tighten. She thought that she probably—unfortunately—knew the answer.

Jasper gave a small, mirthless chuckle. “I don’t even know for sure. He realized he’d said the wrong thing to the wrong person—a second too late—and then he tried to take off. So I grabbed him and clocked him. Based on his reaction, though? I’m sure what I _thought_ he was trying to say is what he was actually trying to say.” She leaned back on her hands and stared out into space as she spit out, “‘You all _dykes_ ,’ probably.”

Another pause. Then Peridot said, “Did you tell Lapis all that?”

The other girl visibly deflated. “Yeah, I did. She said it didn’t matter, because I’d overreacted to him not even saying anything and because I’d been ‘egging him on’ from the start. But whatever. I got a read on that dweeb immediately. He didn’t deserve anything more. Not my fault.” She leaned forward to cross her arms over her knees; knowing Jasper, Peridot was sure she was done saying her part.

And even though Jasper was her best friend and even though she believed her, Peridot couldn’t help but suspect that maybe, just maybe, Lapis had a point. So she decided to change the subject a little.

“So what does Pearl have you doing as punishment?”

Jasper’s shoulders lifted a bit as she chortled. “I have to sit with her at meals for at least a month. Apparently—” She punctuated the following with air quotes. “—‘limiting the time I have with similarly aged companions will teach me the consequences of my actions.’”

Peridot couldn’t keep herself from laughing a bit as well. “What does she think you are, a twelve-year-old?”

“And as if _that_ weren’t enough,” Jasper continued, her smile gradually breaking out, “I’m on end-of-day cleanup duty for the Temple from now until camp’s over.”

“Whatever, you got off easy.” Peridot leaned back on her hands. The wooden porch felt grainy under her palms. She found that she didn’t mind it so much. “I’m just glad you’re still here.”

There was a beat of silence as Peridot felt Jasper shift next to her. When she looked up at her friend, she saw that Jasper was looking right back down at her. Jasper’s face was mostly serious. But because it was Peridot examining her—anyone else in the world who didn’t know Jasper as well as she did might have missed it—she noticed the slightest hint of softness in her eyes and at the corners of her mouth. “Yeah,” Jasper said kind of quietly. “Me, too.”

Just then, the snapping of a branch reached Peridot’s ears, and her head swiveled to look over at the source of the noise. Rounding the corner of the path next to Pink Cabin was Lapis, who was staring straight ahead at the Temple as she walked. She looked tired. For a moment, Peridot wondered if she hadn’t slept well last night either. But she refrained from calling out to her. There would be time for the two of them to talk later.

Jasper, on the other hand, stood up quickly as soon as she saw the other girl. Loudly, she said, “Lapis.” And then she waited. She neither took a step forward nor otherwise indicated that she was about to approach Lapis without express permission.

Lapis wheeled around at Jasper’s voice. Her eyes quickly shifted from looking tired to looking hardened. And then she spun back around and continued her path towards the Temple, each step sounding heavier as she retreated.

Jasper collapsed again onto the steps, replacing her head onto her hands as she did so. When she didn’t say anything, Peridot tentatively placed her hand on her friends shoulder.

It was only there for a second before she removed it again, but she’d gotten her point across. “I’ll talk to her,” Peridot said aloud.

Jasper nodded into her palms, mumbling, “Thanks, Per.”

\---

Peridot didn’t get to talk to Lapis all through breakfast. The latter remained stoic and silent, even with Jasper at the other, far end of the table. Peridot had to admit that this silence was not only expected but fair, given that Jenny, Buck, and Sour Cream still sat with them. It was obvious in their faces that they were hoping to hear the juicy details of the night before, this time from Lapis’s point of view. But, to their credit, they certainly didn’t ask. Instead, they kept to their own conversation, occasionally throwing a comment Peridot and Lapis’s way to invite them into the conversation. While Peridot would respond politely as necessary, Lapis always ignored them.

The trek to the lake for the swimming lesson was similar, with the two girls walking together at the back of the group without speaking. Peridot didn’t want to be the first to say anything—first of all because she wanted to ensure that Lapis was comfortable enough with her to even talk about The New Incident, and second of all because _stars forbid_ she said the wrong thing.

Lapis only spoke once she and Peridot had caught up to the group of kids, all of whom were waiting at the end of the dock. Here, Peridot noticed the fleet of canoes bobbing up and down in the water.

“Only five per boat, guys, or else they’ll tip,” Lapis said as she stooped to pick up a rope to pull one of the canoes against the pier; her upper arm muscles rippled with the effort. Lapis stood up straight again, plastering a (rather convincing) smile on her face. “Who’s up first?”

Steven and Connie stepped forward, each clumsily climbing into their canoe by keeping a tight hold on Lapis’s hand. Amethyst tumbled into it after them, and then two Blue campers followed her. Lapis loaded each boat carefully, guiding the campers by their hands and muttering encouragements to them. Meanwhile, her smile never left her face. It did, however, become softer and less forced the more she interacted with them.

Eventually Sour Cream stepped up. “One of my kids stayed back today, he’s pretty sick. Can I take his place?”

“Sure, Sour Cream.” Lapis’s grin grew even wider as she let him grab her hand to step into a boat between two campers of each color. “But stay in the middle to keep it balanced, okay?”

And then after some basic instructions on how to paddle, Lapis sent them off to practice navigating around the lake on their own—effectively leaving her and Peridot alone on the dock. Lapis kept her back to Peridot for a few moments longer, staring out over the water to watch the kids glide away in their boats.

Peridot stepped forward to sit herself down next to where Lapis stood. She grabbed her fake shins to cross them in front of her, and then she leaned to rest her elbows on her knees. Peridot kept herself occupied by twisting her bracelet around her wrist as she waited for Lapis to sit next to her, which eventually— _finally_ —she did. Once Lapis had settled her legs to dangle over the edge of the dock, however, she still remained silent.

Fear of saying the wrong thing or not, Peridot couldn’t take it anymore. She sighed heavily and said in a crisp (erring on the side of nervous) voice, “So. How are you?”

Peridot chanced a glance over at Lapis, whose smile had fallen away—though it did tweak up a little as the girl looked back at Peridot. Lapis sighed, too. “Been better.”

“I figured.” More silence. Then, “You want to talk about it?”

Lapis chuckled a little. “No.” Even more silence. Then, “Why is she like that?”

Peridot answered automatically. “I don’t know.”

“Has she always been like that?”

“Yeah,” Peridot said. “Kind of. But she’s different with you.” Peridot glanced back at Lapis and caught her rolling her eyes. “Well, she _was_ different with you. Until—you know.”

“Oh, I know.”

Both girls were silent again for a while after that, observing the canoes drift lazily around the lake. Then they watched as Amethyst grabbed onto the sides of her boat and started rocking side to side, laughing uproariously as she did so. Steven soon joined in. Peridot was just about to yell out at them to cease and desist when the canoe finally tipped. One by one, its five passengers’ heads broke the surface of the water and bobbed in place.

Peridot looked guiltily over at Lapis, expecting to be scolded for failing to control her campers. But she was pleasantly surprised to find her smiling instead. “It’s okay. That was my fault for letting Amethyst and Steven go together,” Lapis said. She stood and peeled off her outerwear. “I’m going to make sure they all get back in all right.”

“All right,” Peridot responded. Just as Lapis squatted to dive into the lake, Peridot hastily added, “But have you spoken with Jasper about it? I mean—”

Lapis paused mid-movement and groaned, “Peridot. I don’t want to talk about her anymore. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” And then Lapis leapt off the dock and into the water. Peridot watched her shoulders as she stroked away, Lapis’s tattooed wings dipping below the surface as she did.

\---

Peridot sat alone on the dock for the remainder of the lesson. Then she and Lapis and Sour Cream led the charge back up the path to the Temple for lunch. During their meal, Lapis remained silent as the others chatted animatedly around them. Peridot would throw glances towards the other end of the table to observe Jasper, who moved her fork sulkily around her plate as Pearl jabbered on about something Peridot couldn’t hear. Only once did Jasper’s eyes meet her own, at which point they were able to exchange words from where they sat.

 _Well?_ Jasper’s eyes conveyed, widening and flicking towards Lapis before settling back on Peridot’s.

 _I’m working on it,_  Peridot’s eyes returned by mimicking the same gesture and ending it with a slight eye roll.

Lapis automatically followed Peridot and the rest of Pink Cabin to art. Once there, Peridot noticed that all the crafts tables and chairs had been pushed to the outer perimeters of the rooms. She, Lapis, and Sour Cream settled themselves onto the counter in the back as Pearl stood tall and clapped her hands together.

“Okay, everyone!” Pearl said, a giggle bubbling its way out as she spoke. “Does everyone know what this Friday is? Yes, Steven?”

Steven, whose hand had shot up immediately at Pearl’s first question, nearly shouted his answer. “It’s the dance!”

“Wonderful, Steven! You’re right!” Turning her attention back to the class at large, Pearl continued, “This Friday _is_ Camp H.G.’s annual Welcome Back Gala. It’s an evening chock-full of supervised entertainment and merriment and—of course—” She struck a pose that made her resemble a ballerina, foot pointed behind her and arms drifted delicately out. (If Jasper were here, Peridot would have wanted to relive their trusty fake-barfing routine.) “—dancing.”

Peridot’s attention waned as Pearl went on explaining. The dance had always been so stupid to her. Every year, Peridot would spend the evening playing on her handheld on the sidelines as Jasper verbally abused anyone who was out of earshot about anything—their outfits, their hair, _et cetera_. The younger campers would always get energy highs and spaz around the empty Temple, while the older campers would pair off and sneak away when their counselors weren’t looking (and, now that she thought about it, the counselors themselves were more often than not guilty of slinking off, too).

For all intents and purposes, it was your average night at camp. Only, at the dance, everyone was required to get dressed up for it. It was torture.

At that moment, two things caught Peridot’s attention that brought her crashing down from her own thoughts. The first thing was the scratching of a needle on a record before Pearl grumbled, “Wait, hold on, I got it,” and a song warbled out, filling the room. It was an old song, like something one might hear in a movie where teenagers hung out at milkshake shops and got into drag races with each other.

The second, more startling thing was the sudden pressure Peridot felt on her wrist as Lapis dragged her to her feet and said, “Come on. Dance with me.”

“What—” Peridot spluttered as she began to trip behind Lapis. She looked back beseechingly at Sour Cream for help. He, however, had already dozed off sitting up. “Wait—Lapis—Don’t—I don’t—”

Lapis spun Peridot around to face her. They were positioned at the edge of the class, closest to the door. Looking around, Peridot saw that the campers had already coupled up and were staring expectantly at Pearl. Peridot only snapped her attention back to Lapis when she guided one of Peridot’s hands to rest at the small of her back. Lapis had changed out of her swimsuit at lunch and into her regulation camp t-shirt, which she’d once again tied up. Subsequently, Peridot’s palm met with warm, bare skin.

Peridot tensed immediately. “Lapis,” she tried again. “ _Please_. I don’t dance.”

“All right,” Lapis replied, and for a moment Peridot felt her muscles relax. The moment passed once Lapis dragged Peridot’s hand to lay on her shoulder instead, and Lapis’s own hand pressed against Peridot’s lower back. “I’ll lead then.”

“ _That’s not what I meant_ ,” Peridot hissed, her voice picking up in urgency.

“Peridot, _please_ ,” Pearl scolded. “I’m attempting to teach a basic ballroom step here!”

“Yeah, Peridot, _please_ ,” Lapis whispered, narrowing her eyes and setting her face into a stern expression.

“ _Lazuli_ , listen—”

“No _you_ listen. I’m feeling rather emotionally _shitty_ , and I’m sure you can sympathize as to _why_. So can I have this?”

There was a brief, edgy pause as Peridot searched Lapis’s face. Although she’d initially decided on refusing and stomping back to her seat on the counter, she changed her mind when she saw how tired Lapis looked. Guilt made Peridot’s skin crawl. So instead, she responded in a hoarse murmur, “ _Fine_.”

Lapis’s face split into a grin in an instant. Her hand grabbed Peridot’s free one and on Pearl’s instruction to the class to “give it a try,” Lapis took a step forward.

Peridot, on instinct, moved her foot back in unison—though, granted, her step was much less graceful. She shot her eyes down to stare at their feet in order to mirror Lapis’s motions. Right foot back, left foot side, together. Left foot forward, right foot side, together. The pattern wasn’t getting any easier, and Peridot noted that they were completely out of time with the music.

“Huh. You really don’t dance, do you?”

Peridot’s head snapped back up momentarily to scowl at Lapis. “I _told_ you,” she said as she kept stumbling. “I’m not exactly _equipped_ to dance, am I?”

Lapis laughed—not in a mean way, but there was mischief in it all the same. “Whatever, you’re doing fine. Just don’t look down at your feet.”

“That seems most unwise, in my opinion. How will I—”

“ _Trust_ me, will you? Look at me, not at your feet.”

Peridot begrudgingly conceded and tipped up her chin to settle her stare on Lapis. “What all do _you_ know about dancing anyway?”

Lapis shrugged her shoulders under Peridot’s hand. “Plenty. I used to be a competition ballroom dancer. So.”

Peridot felt her jaw drop a little. “Shut up.”

“What?”

“That’s so _lame_.”

Lapis snorted. “Look who’s talking. Plus, _you_ shut up—it’s _fun_. I won a lot, too.”

Without thinking, Peridot rolled her eyes and said, “Jasper never told me you were such a _square_.” Immediately after saying Jasper’s name out loud, she wished she hadn’t.

But however she feared that Lapis would reply, Peridot certainly didn’t expect her to say, “Well, that’s because Jasper doesn’t _know_ about it.” After a pause, Lapis added, “And, again, look who’s talking.”

“What?” Peridot’s eyebrows knitted together. “Why?”

Lapis shrugged once more. “Never came up.” And then she broke eye contact, opting to look down at their feet. Again, Peridot feared that she’d upset Lapis—that is, until the other girl looked back up. This time, Lapis was beaming. “Hey, look at you!”

“What?”

“You’re dancing!”

“ _What_?” Peridot glimpsed back down at her feet, and was utterly shocked to find them moving effortlessly (or, at least with _less_ effort) in time with the music and Lapis’s own steps. Of course, the second she looked at them, she stumbled again.

Lapis’s grip on her back tightened, which kept her from falling over completely. “What did I say? _Don’t_ _look down at your feet_!”

“You _told me_ to look!”

“ _Whatever_ ,” Lapis sighed. Her brilliant grin still hadn’t fallen from her face. She began waltzing again, Peridot’s feet faltering in response. “Try it again. Keep your eyes on me.”

Peridot’s entire body was buzzing with warmth.

For now, she decided to blame that on a mixture of physical exertion and adrenaline.

\---

Dinner passed for Peridot and Lapis in the same fashion that breakfast and lunch had—in contented silence as conversation hummed around them. Peridot kept feeling Jasper’s stare on her, but she couldn’t bring herself to meet it; not until, she reasoned with herself, she had something constructive to tell her.

Unfortunately, that probably meant that Peridot wouldn’t be able to report back to Jasper until at least tomorrow, if not later. Lapis hadn’t said a word about Jasper since the beginning of the dance lesson and, by the looks of it, wasn’t planning on cracking anytime soon.

Still. Peridot had to try. So when Lapis rose from her seat and announced quietly that she was going to bed, Peridot followed suit. As they walked to the door, she rehearsed in her head what was going to be her last ditch effort to get Lapis to forgive Jasper—or, at least, to get her on her way towards forgiving Jasper. _Look, Lazuli_ , Peridot would say before they parted ways at Pink Cabin. _Jasper is a useless meathead that thinks more with her muscles than with her actual brain. But she’s changing, and that started with you. So—_

“Walk me back to my cabin?”

Peridot stopped in her tracks. She hadn’t noticed that they’d already exited the Temple and reached the bottom of the steps before Lapis had spoken. Now that she had been brought back to reality, however, her mind blanked. “Uh.” Peridot hummed. What was it that she’d just been wanting to say? For the life of her, she couldn’t remember. So she settled for responding, “All right.”

The two girls continued their trek—past the fire pit, where Garnet was just igniting a stack of logs, and past Pink Cabin. When they reached the start of the path that led down to the lake, Lapis spoke up again. “I want to thank you.”

“Why?” Peridot replied immediately with a frown, glancing over at Lapis.

“Because I know that you’re obviously biased towards Jasper, and yet you’re still—” Lapis stopped mid-sentence before she smiled at Peridot. “Well, you’ve been sweet.”

Peridot felt her face flush with intense heat. “I’m not sweet,” she mumbled, which made Lapis let her head fall back in laughter. It was, admittedly, a little infectious. Peridot couldn’t help grinning back at her. “And, anyway, I’m not biased towards Jasper.”

“Please.” Lapis rolled her eyes. “She’s your best friend.”

“Well, she also happens to be wrong.” Peridot shrugged her shoulders. “And you’re—” She let her gaze fall from Lapis to the trail in front of them. To continue speaking took every ounce of her willpower. “You’re my friend now, too.”

“I should’ve figured,” Lapis replied. She reached out to slip her finger between Peridot’s bracelet and wrist, tugging on it. Then Lapis pulled her hand away briefly to opt for interlacing their fingers. “Thanks, Peridot.”

In the infinitesimal amount of time for which their hands were pressed together, Peridot found herself marveling at the softness of Lapis’s skin, and the way the other girl pressed her thumb into the center of Peridot’s palm. And then, as quickly as it had been initiated, it was over; Lapis pulled away.

“That reminds me,” Lapis continued—graciously oblivious to Peridot’s mind melt. “Wait here, I’ll get your gloves.”

And then Peridot was alone for a moment, not even having realized that they paused outside of another cabin with which she was just barely familiar. It was much smaller than any of the other lodgings, and was absent a colored shape painted on the front door. Looking around herself, Peridot could just see the tip of the dock past a thicket of trees and the reflection of moonlight on water.

Lapis returned quickly and pressed Peridot’s fingerless gloves into her hands. “Here. Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night.” She turned to climb back up the steps and open the cabin door.

Something was bothering Peridot—something that she couldn’t quite name. She was certain, however, that had to do with Jasper. Which finally reminded her of her original mission.

“Wait,” Peridot said. One hand clutched around her gloves and the other hand gripping the wooden railing, she ascended the steps after Lapis—who had paused with her hand holding the door open. “I need to say something. And then I’ll leave you alone about it. Deal?”

Lapis narrowed her eyes and said in a voice thick with wariness, “Okay?”

“Okay. Is what Jasper did unfixable?”

“Peridot, I—”

“Hold on, please,” Peridot urged, bringing her hands up in a motion to stop Lapis from speaking. “She’s wrong, I’ll be the first to admit that. She’s a brute. But she loves you, and—”

“She _loves_ me?” Lapis’s hand fell from the door handle to rest limply at her side. Lapis’s eyes, meanwhile, narrowed even further.

“Well, _no_ ,” Peridot said as she began to twist her gloves in her hands. Before Lapis could respond again, she pressed on. “ _Not_ no, just—she hasn’t said that _per se_. But it’s kind of obvious to me that—well, that you’re _different_ and she—” Peridot had never felt more out of breath in her life. She gulped. “Do _you_ love _her_?”

Lapis looked imploringly up at the sky, as if she were responding to a question _it_ had asked her. “ _God,_ Peridot, I don’t know! We’ve only been dating for three months. I don’t think you can fall in love in three months.”

“Well, I wouldn’t know,” Peridot said, now settling her hands on her hips. “But you care about her?”

There was a brief pause before Lapis replied, “Of course I do.”

“And do you want to keep dating her?”

“ _Peridot_ —”

“If everything went back to how it was before Beach Day, would you want to keep dating her?”

Lapis threw her arms up in exasperation. Her voice was raised as she said, “But I don’t need to go back to how it was! What I _want_ is for her to know that I don’t need her swooping in and beating the shit out of anyone who talks to me because what I _want_ is for her to _trust me_!”

The pause that followed was heavy. Lapis’s face—though shadowed—was red, with either frustration or some other emotion. It took an extra moment for Peridot to steel herself to continue. “All right. As pleasant as it would be to have Jasper come to that conclusion on her own—well, you’ve met her. So can I tell her what you’ve just told me so as to facilitate this whole conflict resolution thing?”

Lapis crossed her arms in front of her chest. “What, you’re asking my permission?”

“Yes, actually, I am.”

Another pause. “This is so high school.”

“Do I have your permission then?”

A final pause. Then, “Fine. You have my permission.”

“Thank you.” Peridot turned to march down the stairs. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Lapis.”

“Wait.”

Peridot couldn’t turn back to look at Lapis until she’d already landed back on the dirt path. When she finally did look back, however, it was just in time to see a blur of blue hair coming at her face. Lapis had descended the stairs as well and, as soon as she reached Peridot, pulled her into her arms for a hug. Peridot froze for a moment—adjusting to the feeling of Lapis’s arms squeezing her middle and her chin resting on her shoulder—before patting Lapis’s back in return.

“You’re a really good friend already. Do you know that?” Lapis’s voice was loud in Peridot’s ear, yet somehow comforting at the same time. Peridot allowed her eyes to shut for a moment.

“Who, me? The great and lovable Peridot?” She reopened her eyes and pulled away, letting her gaze fall to their feet. “I suppose.”

“Good night,” Lapis whispered. Peridot looked up in time to see Lapis smile softly down at her before the other girl stepped back up to the cabin door and disappeared behind it.

In a daze, Peridot walked back up the little trail that led to the main path that connected the lake to the rest of camp. She felt warm throughout her entire body, and her heart seemed to be beating twice as hard in her chest as was normal. Once again, however, Peridot chose to blame the phenomena on physical exertion (although, if pressed, she would have to admit the hill’s inclination was not particularly steep).

Something she couldn’t ignore, though, was the inexplicable dread that was seeping into her skin. With every step she took, the closer she was to Jasper—ergo, the closer she was to helping fix Jasper’s relationship. Which, in theory, should have made Peridot feel relieved. No more tension, no more being stuck in the middle.

So why was it that Peridot suddenly, almost _violently_ , didn’t want to see Jasper at all?

Any option to slip away unseen was thwarted when Peridot turned the corner around Pink Cabin to find Jasper sitting on its front steps, apparently waiting for her. Once Jasper had seen her, she jumped up and rushed forward, her face flushed and expectant. “Well?” Jasper asked.

Peridot heaved a sigh before pinching the bridge of her nose with one hand, and pocketing her gloves with the other. “Okay, you clod. I think I have a plan.”

\---

The next night found Peridot and Jasper squatting behind the Temple at the entrance to the art classroom. Amethyst, meanwhile, was kneeling in front of the door and jimmying its lock with a hair pin.

“You guys got my back?” Amethyst whispered, throwing a look over her shoulder at the other two girls.

“We got you,” Jasper replied quietly with a nod.

Peridot pitched forward, catching herself from landing on her face by throwing out her hands. She immediately regretted this action, as rocks imbedded themselves in her palms. Maybe she should get back into the habit of wearing her gloves.

Groaning, Peridot said at regular volume, “ _Hey_.” She clumsily stood upright, wiping her hands on her jean shorts. “Can we hurry this up? My legs can’t handle prowling.”

“ _P-dork!_ ” Amethyst hissed. “You’re gonna blow our cover!”

“ _What_ cover? We are completely unconcealed! Anyone who comes around the corner is going to see us anyway. And _besides_ , the only person who would care is Pearl—and _she’ll_ be busy supervising the campfire for another two hours.”

“Per,” Jasper sighed—also at regular volume. “Let her have her fun.”

“Yeah, _Per_!” Amethyst added with a snort. “I’m doing you guys, like, a major solid.” There was the sound of a click, and then Amethyst exclaimed, “ _Got_ it!”

“ _Excellent_ ,” Jasper said, pumping her fist out in front of herself as she stood up. “Amethyst, you help me set up while Per goes and gets Lapis.”

“Ex- _squeeze_ me.” Amethyst stood as well, brushing off her knees as she rose. “I’m still not clear on what exactly I’m getting out of this?”

“Well, what do you want?” Peridot asked.

Amethyst made a show of tapping her finger on her chin. “Oh, uh, let me see.” A wry grin overtook her face. “How about letting me tag along next time y’all sneak out? Deal?”

Jasper barked out a laugh and reached forward to grasp Amethyst’s hand. “Deal. I like the way you think.” Jasper’s head then swiveled around to focus on Peridot. “All right, Per, show time. Go get her and bring her back in five.”

Peridot turned on her heel, throwing a halfhearted thumbs-up over her shoulder as she departed. Then she rounded the corner of the Temple and headed for the distant glow of the campfire.

Ever since last night, Peridot had been struggling with the strangest phenomenon. It felt like a brick was sitting on her chest that simultaneously pushed on her heart and her stomach. The sensation made her feel nauseated. At first, she’d been afraid that she’d eaten something that had gone bad, and she was afraid that her body would soon respond by vomiting.

But the queasy feeling was inconsistent. For example, it was present at every meal, yet absent whenever she visited the bathroom. And although it had been subdued since dinner, the brick was reforming now—more and more with every step Peridot took towards the campfire.

Suddenly Peridot’s eyes settled on Lapis, sitting on a log close to the fire between Connie and Steven. Lapis’s eyes were volleying back and forth between them, obviously immersed in a story they were tag-teaming. Steven flourished his hands to emphasize what must have been the punchline, because Lapis tipped her head back to laugh.

And it felt like an entire bag of bricks had crashed into Peridot’s ribcage.

“Peridot!” Steven called out, waving at her. “Come join us.”

Lapis’s chin dropped and—once her eyes had found Peridot’s—she smiled softly. The amount of bricks crushing Peridot’s chest multiplied as she stepped over to the group.

“Hey,” Peridot said, breaking eye contact with Lapis to look between Steven and Connie. “I need to borrow Lapis, all right?”

Steven looked disappointed, and Connie asked, “Oh? Why?”

“It’s nothing special. And definitely not important at all.”

“That means it actually is!” Connie exclaimed, looking up at Lapis. “Can we come?”

“Yeah!” Steven added, looking earnestly at Peridot. “ _Please_?”

“No,” Peridot said simply. “It’s—uh. It’s for adult eyes only.”

“ _Come on!_ ”

“Guys,” Laps cut in as she rose to her feet. “I’m sure I can fill you in later. Right, Peridot?”

“Uh, sure.”

Over the sound of the two kids’ groans, Lapis said, “All right. Lead the way.” And they walked together away from the fire. After a moment, Lapis snorted. “You have zero idea how to handle kids, do you?”

“ _Excuse_ me,” Peridot huffed, “but I’ve been keeping them alive for the past week and a half!”

“That’s an awful low bar to set,” Lapis replied, a wry grin playing on her lips. “What I _mean_ is, when you’re trying to keep kids out of the way, you ought to distract them or imply that whatever’s going on is actually really boring.” There was a beat of silence, and then, “What _is_ going on, actually? Are you taking me to the art classroom?”

“I can’t tell you,” Peridot said. “And yes.”

“Does it have to do with Jasper?”

“Yes.”

“Is this why you’ve been acting weird all day? Barely talking at meals?”

To that, Peridot feared the answer wasn’t so simple. But she replied, “Yes,” anyway.

“Okay.” Soon they were stopped outside the door to the art classroom. All was silent. “Can you tell me anything about what to expect?”

Peridot shook her head as she reached her hand forward to knock on the door. There was a shuffling from within the building. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

Lapis’s eyes remained trained on Peridot’s as they waited at the door, facing each other. “Peridot,” she whispered, so quietly that Peridot almost didn’t hear her.

Peridot blinked. “What?”

Lapis opened her mouth to say something—but then she closed it. As she was halfway to opening her mouth again, however, a scratching sound came from the other side of the door. Lapis swiveled her head in its direction, while Peridot (who had been anticipating the sound) kept her stare on Lapis’s face.

Then there was music. Lapis’s eyebrows knitted together, still gawking at the door. The bricks gave an extra hard push on Peridot’s diaphragm, and she was lost for a minute.

And then the door opened. There stood Jasper—hair tied back in an attempt to make it look neat, backlit by the glow from candles, and face tense with anxiety.

“Hey,” she said quietly to Lapis, and she reached forward and held her hand out, palm up.

After a moment, Lapis silently placed her own hand into Jasper’s outstretched one. Jasper’s face melted instantaneously. She began to lead Lapis inside, with a quick and low, “Thanks, Per,” thrown over her shoulder. Lapis didn’t look back once before the door was shut with a snap.

And then Peridot was suddenly, entirely alone. But instead of plodding her way down past the Temple to Pink Cabin to go to bed—her job was done, after all—she turned on her heel to collapse on the ground, her back faced towards the recently closed door.

The bricks had disappeared, the intense pressure on Peridot’s chest relieved. But relief wasn’t quite the best description for how she felt. The bricks might have been uncomfortable, but that feeling was incomparable to this new one that hollowed out her insides. She felt empty. And also, as if her body was aching for _something_ to fill it up again, she felt pulled towards something—someone—just beyond the door.

This sensation was entirely new for her. The closest Peridot could come to likening it to something was when she experienced faraway attractions—faraway, because she would observe the object of her desire from across classrooms and never let herself get near enough to them to engage in actual conversation. But this?

Peridot knew now why she never before let herself get close to a crush—this feeling was going to kill her.

And as soon as she recognized the way she’d just internally described the feeling, her mind went blank.

Just then, however, reality came crashing back down around her when she felt something brush her upper arm. Peridot startled, and then a firm grip was on her bicep.

“Whoa, sorry, Peri,” whispered Amethyst, who had just settled next to her. “I didn’t mean to scare the snot out of you.”

“Oh,” Peridot said quietly in return, clutching at her heart. She searched for words that didn’t come. Her mind was too much a jumbled mess.

“What’re you still doing here anyway? Eavesdropping?” Amethyst bumped shoulders with Peridot. “Sicko.”

“Well, what are _you_ still doing here?”

Amethyst shrugged. “Eavesdropping.” And then Amethyst stood up again with a grunt, stretched out her hand, and continued, “Come on, let’s go back to the cabin and give these two some _alone time_.”

Peridot felt like she might throw up again. But she grabbed Amethyst’s hand anyway and let herself be pulled to her feet. She followed the other girl away from the art classroom, wanting to push back whatever realization she’d just come to for as long as possible.

\---

The realization struck her again in the middle of the night, as she lay sleeplessly in bed. With no other outlet to express the pent up terror and anxiety within her, she pulled her tablet towards her and turned it on, aiming it so that its bright screen was pointed towards herself and not at any of the slumbering campers.

“Log date 061515. I might be in trouble. No, correction: I am most definitely in trouble. The process of attraction and coupling might be foreign to me, but regardless I find myself—”

“Peridot, what’re you doing?”

“ _Nothing_ , Steven. Go back to sleep.”

After a moment, Peridot continued typing. “I fear I like Lapis Lazuli in the same way Jasper does. More tomorrow—if I haven’t yet hurled myself into the lake.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peridot is in trouble. Really big trouble.

Only the harsh screeching of Pearl’s voice over the intercom could force Peridot to pry her eyes open the next morning. She’d been deep asleep—maybe deeper asleep than she’d been since camp started, which was a little surprising considering how long it had taken her to fall asleep at all. She had definitely had a dream and although she couldn’t remember it exactly, Peridot was certain that Lapis Lazuli had been featured in it. Whatever other content the dream might have held, Lapis’s appearance was definitely a most unwelcome facet.

Peridot sat up in bed and reached forward to grab her glasses, as the hubbub of campers getting ready for the day around her hummed louder and louder. She left her gloves on the window ledge. Peridot hadn’t felt the need to wear them since Lapis had picked them up at Beach Day.

And then Peridot realized that Lapis had already crossed her mind twice in the few moments she’d been awake. She braced herself for the now-familiar feeling of bricks slamming into her chest.

The sensation didn’t come. That was curious, to say the least. It had been so real last night, that pounding ache in her chest.

Half as an experiment and half as a dare, Peridot conjured the image of Lapis to her mind’s eye. She pictured the way Lapis had looked the night before, illuminated by a combination of the campfire and the moon and head tipped back as she laughed. From an objective standpoint, Lapis was extraordinarily pretty.

But still, the heart attack that Peridot expected didn’t occur. Instead, she experienced an eclectic mixture of feelings. The first was embarrassment, because Peridot felt rather stupid that she was so antisocial and inexperienced that she could so easily confuse platonic affection for romantic attraction. The second was immense relief, which was quickly overshadowed by the third—jubilation.

Peridot strapped on her prosthetics, jumped out of bed, and got ready with enthusiasm, acting the part of the perky camp counselor better than she thought was possible. Once she’d ushered the Pink campers out the door and down the steps of the cabin, she spotted a clump of yellow bandanas and—at their head—Jasper, who was faced towards the Temple door. So Peridot increased the length of her stride to catch up with her, eager to ask how her night with Lapis had gone and to put whatever confusing feelings she’d experienced behind her. When she got close enough, Peridot raised her hand in a wave and called out Jasper’s name. Jasper turned and gave Peridot her usual cocky grin.

What Peridot hadn’t originally noticed, however, was that Lapis had been hidden behind Jasper’s bulk. When Jasper turned and revealed Lapis, the latter smiled too. It was radiant. At the same time, the smallest breeze picked up a strand of blue hair and whipped it across Lapis’s face, which she tucked back behind her ear.

That’s when the bricks finally hit her—only this time, it was more like Peridot had crashed chest-first into a building made of bricks. The wind was nearly knocked out of her. It was all she could do to not stop in her tracks. She stumbled forward, quietly greeted the two other girls (who she now realized were holding hands), and followed them inside the Temple for breakfast.

Nothing in her memory could have prepared Peridot for the reality of Lapis Lazuli’s allure—and, despite the deflation of her previous relief, she couldn’t help but be a little grateful to be in her presence, whatever the cost.

Peridot was in trouble. Really big trouble.

\---

It was easy to avoid talking to Lapis at breakfast. Now that she was in better spirits, Lapis was occupied by conversation with Jenny, Buck, and Sour Cream and by throwing flirtatious glances down the table at Jasper. All was back to normal—with the exception of the war currently raging inside of Peridot’s head.

Just because she wasn’t forced to talk to Lapis (which, don’t get it wrong, Peridot was _grateful_ for; she wasn’t sure she’d be able to form coherent sentences) didn’t make her internal struggle any easier. She still had to _look_ at Lapis, for example. As hard as Peridot stared at her food, she couldn’t keep herself from taking covert glances up at the girl across from her.

The most recent time she caught herself doing this, she willed her eyes to stare in a different direction so that she wouldn’t count the light freckles that dappled Lapis’s nose and cheeks. (Peridot got to twenty-three before she stopped). Once she’d torn her gaze away from Lapis, however, it fell onto Jasper. At the same time, Jasper happened to look over too, and their eyes met. Jasper waggled her eyebrows and glanced briefly over at Lapis. This was apparently her way of saying that the apology had gone well—meaning, knowing Jasper, that it had probably ended with sex. While Peridot forced a smile and gave Jasper a small thumbs-up, she swallowed down the bile that threatened to rise in her throat. Whether this reaction was out of guilt or out of jealousy, she didn’t know. This whole major-crush-on-her-best-friend’s-girlfriend was new to her. She’d figure out the rest later.

As they made their way down to the lake for the next lesson, it was harder for Peridot to avoid close contact. Lapis walked right next to her, and Peridot had never before realized how often they bumped shoulders. Graciously, Lapis was oblivious to this because Steven and Connie were occupying her attention. They ran up to her as soon as they had left the Temple, Steven grasped her hand, and together they asked her about the “secret mission” Peridot had taken her on the previous night.

“Was it dangerous?” Steven asked, starry eyes widening more and more with every word he spoke.

Lapis chuckled. “No, it wasn’t dangerous. Peridot just wanted me to talk to Jasper.”

“Did you two make up?” Connie asked, the space between her eyebrows wrinkling.

“Yes, we did,” Lapis said with a smile. She glanced over at Peridot at this point and gently bumped hips with her. Although Peridot managed to avoid tripping over her own legs, she felt her heart pitch forward anyway.

“Did you guys _kiss_?”

“ _Steven_.”

“ _Connie_ , come on! It’s _romantic_.”

Once they reached the lake, Steven and Connie automatically stepped forward to crawl into the canoe closest to them. Amethyst started to join them when Lapis put her hand on her shoulder. “I think it’s best,” Lapis explained, “if you and Steven are separated this lesson.”

“ _What_?” Amethyst protested, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “ _Why_?”

Lapis sighed. “Because you two tipped your boat and everyone in it into the water last time.”

“Oh, big deal. It was _fun_. No one got hurt!”

“Maybe not. But still. Just for today, Amethyst.”

Amethyst tightened her arms and looked away. “Whatever. I’ma sit this one out today, _teach_.” Then she stomped away from the edge of the dock to stand next to Peridot.

Lapis pinched the bridge of her nose briefly, but otherwise ignored Amethyst in lieu of continuing to load campers into boats. She eventually climbed into the canoe that held Steven and Connie—“For extra security,” she muttered to them with a grin—and then they all took off together, gliding away from the shore to collect in the middle of the lake. This left Peridot, Amethyst, and Sour Cream behind, who settled themselves onto the edge of the pier.

Amethyst picked at her fingernails as she looked gloomily out over the water. She scoffed. “ _God_ , can you believe her, Peri? She has no idea how much she _owes_ us.”

Peridot, who had momentarily been distracted by watching Lapis’s arms flex with every row, turned her head sharply to look at Amethyst. “She doesn’t _owe_ us anything.”

Amethyst scoffed again. “Whatever. Still. She should be grateful.”

“Well, she doesn’t even _know_ , does she?” Peridot’s eyes flicked quickly in Lapis’s direction. “And she’s not going to. So keep your mouth shut.”

Amethyst’s eyes narrowed. “Geez, Peridot. What’s up your ass today?”

Deflating slightly, Peridot sighed. “Sorry. I just—” She stopped. She just what? Peridot suspected that she was only defending Lapis so aggressively as a result of her personal feelings for her. She certainly couldn’t disclose _that_ to Amethyst. Taking a deep breath, she continued, “I don’t want to compromise Jasper and Lapis’s making up, you know? I doubt that the grand gesture would mean as much if she knew we were in on it.”

“In on what?”

Sour Cream’s dreamy voice managed to startle Peridot; she’d honestly forgotten his presence on Amethyst’s other side.

“I didn’t have a _lot_ to do with it,” Amethyst said as she picked up her hand to examine her nail beds. “I just picked the lock to the art classroom and helped set up. It was casual.”

“That’s so metal,” Sour Cream said. “What’d you set up?”

“Oh, dude, it was all P-dot’s idea.” Amethyst lightly punched Peridot’s bicep. “You should’ve seen it. Real panty-dropper—”

“ _Maybe_ ,” Peridot interrupted (admittedly, maybe a moment too late), “the less you know, the better.”

“I respect that,” Sour Cream replied. “Either way, good job. Now we can get back to hanging out without it being all weird and tense.”

Peridot shot another glance out at the lake just in time to witness Lapis peeling off her t-shirt to reveal her bathing suit underneath. As she stretched her arms up, her tattoo stretched with her. Peridot’s face felt hot—and although she’d like to blame it on the sun exposure, she was fully aware that that wasn’t the entire truth.

“Yeah,” she said in response to Sour Cream, meanwhile suppressing a groan. “That’s the dream.”

\---

Peridot avoided lunch altogether, using the (rather real) excuse of a bad night’s sleep to slip away under the pretense of using the time to take a nap. In reality, she dug her tablet out from under her pillow as soon as she had settled herself on her mattress.

“Log date 061615. I don’t know how long I can keep up with this. Lapis is _everywhere_. I don’t understand, is this what mind control feels like? Because in a matter of mere _days_  she has hijacked almost all of my waking thoughts.

“I wish I knew for certain what the inciting event was for my current condition. But, _stars_ , even if I did know, what would that help? I can’t go back in time and change anything.

“Still, for my own curiosity: when _did_ this start?”

She didn’t have an answer for that, so Peridot stopped typing. Her gaze drifted lazily out the window behind her.

Peridot suddenly remembered the first night of camp, before the kids even arrived, when she’d seen Jasper and Lapis entwined on the very path at which she was looking now. And then immediately after that was The Original Incident, with the shower and Peridot’s legs and Lapis’s reaction. Could that night really have been only a week and a half ago?

It was almost amusing to Peridot how quickly things had changed.

Almost.

And then there was Jasper. _Remember her?_ Peridot thought. _Lapis’s girlfriend, Jasper? Your best friend on earth, Jasper?_

Peridot’s chest felt heavy. But it wasn’t the same sensation that she experienced around Lapis—the one she equated to bricks body-slamming her. This feeling that she was experiencing was more similar to concrete being poured into her lungs and quickly hardening, restricting her ability to breathe and slowing her heartbeat. She’d never felt so sick with guilt before in her entire life.

She replaced her fingers on the tablet’s keyboard and continued to type. “All right. As to when and how this whole thing started, it doesn’t matter. What matters is stopping it.”

Without really thinking, she glanced at the digital clock at the top of her tablet’s screen. As if her previous sentiment weren’t true enough—the one about how quickly things happen—she realized that lunch would already be over in three minutes. It was time to meet up with her campers and (unfortunately) Lapis in order to go to art class.

Peridot quickly typed out, “Later, I’m going to figure out a strategy. But until then, I’m just going to try to avoid getting a nosebleed from all this anxiety.” And then she saved the document, turned her tablet off, and slid it back under her pillow.

On her way out the cabin door, Peridot absentmindedly stopped in front of the mirror. She smoothed down her hair, checked her teeth for gunk, and even adjusted her sports bra underneath her shirt.

Once she realized what she was doing—that is, primping—she groaned and thumped her forehead against the mirror. And although the physical evidence of the bruise she’d received on the day she arrived at camp had faded, the spot was still sore. It protested to the thump with a particularly painful throb.

But that was okay. Peridot felt like she deserved it.

\---

The second she entered art class with the Pink and Blue campers, Sour Cream, and Lapis in tow, Peridot felt her internal conflict intensify. Because today’s art class was still a dance lesson, judging by the cleared floor and the record player sitting front and center. She, Sour Cream, and Lapis sat on the back counter as the children listened to Pearl’s instructions, and during this time Peridot lobbed around in her mind the possible scenarios that would soon follow.

First, Lapis would not want to dance. That was easy. No option to dance, no problem. They’d sit on the counter and chat normally and Peridot could start drilling into her brain that whatever she felt for Lapis must go back to being strictly friendly as soon as possible.

Second, Lapis would want to dance and Peridot would reject being her partner. This plan of action seemed the most sensible—really, why on earth would she voluntarily open herself up to torture like that? The only downside would be that she risked hurting Lapis’s feelings. But, considering that Lapis was now reconciled with Jasper and that Peridot was subsequently no longer forced to play a supporting role, this was doable. If anything, it would be beneficial. The further she pushed Lapis away, the better.

And third, Lapis would want to dance and Peridot would accept. And they would be in close contact the whole time and Peridot would certainly eat up every second of it. This option was altogether the most selfish, the most dangerous, and (tragically) the most desirable.

Peridot was too busy mulling over her options to notice Lapis standing up—that is, until she felt the other girl tugging on her wrist. Peridot also hadn’t noticed before then that the music had started up.

Option number one was already out the window.

“Come on,” Lapis coaxed, pulling on Peridot’s arm once more. There was no question in either her statement or her face. Lapis wasn’t _offering_ , she was demanding. And for a moment, Peridot allowed herself to admire the other girl’s tenacity.

“You could at least buy me dinner first,” slipped out of Peridot’s mouth before she could catch herself. _Stars, are you openly_ flirting _now? What is_ wrong _with you?_ She would’ve slapped her face into her palm immediately if Lapis hadn’t responded by catching Peridot’s other hand and pulling on that too.

Lapis was chuckling as she dragged Peridot to her feet. “Shut up.”

Peridot dug her heels into the floor before Lapis could pull her any further. _Come on, you clod. Option two. Now._ She cleared her throat before saying, “Lazuli, _no_ , I hate dancing.”

Lapis just shrugged and smiled a teasing, smug smile. “Not when it’s with me, though.”

Well, she had her there.

“Besides,” Lapis said, dropping her voice down to a whisper and leaning in to press her mouth close to Peridot’s ear. “I want to talk to you.”

Peridot swallowed hard; her heart had been steadily crawling up her throat. More than anything else, she prayed that Lapis couldn’t feel the warmth radiating off her cheeks. Matching the other girl’s whisper, Peridot replied, “We can talk here, can’t we?”

She felt Lapis shake her head. “Nope.”

The voice in Peridot’s head heaved a great sigh— _Well. Can’t say I didn’t try._ —as she let Lapis drag her by her wrists to the edge of the makeshift dance floor. They situated themselves facing each other. Lapis placed her hand on the small of Peridot’s back. Peridot, meanwhile, made an effort to suppress a shiver at the contact and lifted her own hand to place it gingerly on Lapis’s shoulder. Their free hands met, and then Lapis stepped forward in time to the music. It was slow. Peridot followed, determinately not looking down at her feet (but also trying her best to avoid eye contact with the other girl).

“So,” Lapis hummed, just shy of a whisper. It was loud enough for Peridot to hear without needing to lean in closer—thank the _stars_ —but quiet enough that no other pair spinning around the room would be able to eavesdrop.

“So,” Peridot replied, matching Lapis’s volume. Her voice shook a little in the single syllable. She cleared her throat.

“I wanted to thank you.”

Peridot glanced briefly at Lapis, who was staring back at her with soft eyes and a softer smile. Peridot was forced to look away again. “For what?”

Lapis chuckled. “You know _exactly_ for what. For helping Jasper last night—and me too, I suppose.”

Peridot shook her head vigorously, still maintaining her focus on anything but her dance partner. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about. All I did was relay the message to Jasper that you were open to reconciliation. She did the rest.”

“Oh, _really_?” Lapis leaned in a little closer, dropping her voice to a real whisper as she said, “So it was entirely Jasper’s idea to break into this classroom?”

“Well—” Peridot swallowed hard. Her mouth was extraordinarily dry. “—yeah. I mean, Amethyst and I were there to actually help her get inside. But basically, yeah.”

 “Uh _huh_. And it was Jasper’s idea to fish out the emergency candles?”

“Yep.” Could anyone else feel how warm it was? Peridot was burning up.

“And so it was also all Jasper’s idea to put the sappiest love song on the record player, make her formal apology, and then invite me to slow dance with her?”

Peridot couldn’t keep herself from meeting Lapis’s gaze again—which was smug and tender at the same time. All Peridot could do was bob her head once in a nod and say at regular volume, “Yep. You got it. All Jasper.”

They continued spinning around the room in a waltz, but Lapis leaned back a little to regard Peridot fully. Her eyes narrowed and her sly grin widened as she stated, “You know, Per, for some reason I find that hard to believe.” Lapis shrugged her shoulders, while Peridot’s hand followed the movement. “Because, you see, I’ve been dating Jasper for a little while now. I know her pretty well. And although she did play the part exceptionally well—I mean, obviously it worked, but I don’t know—it all just seemed a little _cutsie_ for her. But for you?” Lapis leaned back in, her face mere inches away from Peridot’s own. She lowered her voice again. “Nah, that had you written all over it.”

Peridot was distracted for a moment. Because, really, how could Lapis not be _feeling_ this? This feeling of simultaneous magnetism and lightheadedness and—Peridot was going to call it what it was— _desire_? She wanted to lean into Lapis’s embrace, pull the other girl’s face so close to her own so that they shared the same breath

But luckily, one of Peridot’s greatest strengths was self-control. And so she didn’t do what she wanted to do. Instead, she used her hand on Lapis’s shoulder to push herself away.

But still, her self-control had its limits. “So you admit that I’m cute?”

Peridot could’ve slapped herself. _Stop. Fucking. Flirting._ She hoped that—at _least_ —this would have diverted Lapis’s attention enough so that she could change the subject. But that hope was thwarted seeing as how Lapis didn’t respond but instead just kept silently smirking at Peridot.

With a barely-repressed groan, Peridot continued, “ _Look_. I don’t care what you think you know. It was all Jasper, okay?”

Lapis didn’t respond for a moment as she persisted in eyeing Peridot suspiciously. Then she said, “Okay,” in a drawn-out breath that translated the weight of her unmissable incredulity.

“Okay,” Peridot repeated. There was another pause after that. They kept dancing. Peridot resumed looking aimlessly around the room at anything that didn’t include her own feet or Lapis.

“You know,” Lapis said, tapping Peridot’s thumb with her own. Her voice was quiet, almost offhanded. Peridot flicked her gaze back at her face. She was smiling. “If you keep acting as Jasper’s wingman, there might be hope for her and me yet.”

“Yep,” Peridot sighed. Her chest felt heavy—although that came as no surprise, the sensation was quickly becoming a permanent facet of her daily life. She nodded. “That’s the plan.”

\---

The routine continued. At meals, Peridot would sit across from Lapis and do her best to make sure she wouldn’t stare (or, at least, wouldn’t be _caught_ staring). She would interact with Jenny and Buck and Sour Cream sparingly, and every once in a while she would glance down the table at Jasper. More often than not, Jasper was pulling faces at Lapis, and Peridot would try to stomp down the feeling of guilt that was eating her alive.

Luckily, she only had classes with Lapis every other day. So on the off days where she would take her campers to their sports and nature classes, Peridot was eager to finally be able to breathe a little.

This optimism was disrupted, unfortunately, the very next night. Everyone was at dinner, and after a long day of keeping to herself while the Pink campers participated in their lessons and Sour Cream (graciously) accepted the contented silence, Peridot was looking forward to falling into bed. Tomorrow, after all, would be a day of swimming and art lessons—she had to mentally prepare herself for the Lapis-induced torture to come. But she should’ve known her plan would go wrong as soon as she realized Buck was once again very, _very_ late to sit down at the table.

When he eventually did sit down, he gave a little _psst_ out of the corner of his mouth. Once this succeeded in getting the four other staff members to look his way, Buck grinned and pulled back his jacket just enough to reveal the mouth of a liquor bottle.

“Oh, _hell yeah_ ,” Jenny whispered, grabbing Buck by his sleeve and shaking him excitedly. She turned her head to face Lapis. “You and Peridot in?”

Before Peridot could cut in with a response (“ _Nooo!_ ”), Lapis nodded. “You bet we’re in.”

“All right!” Jenny pumped her fist in the air—then brought it down just as abruptly, looking around herself suspiciously. Apparently no one had noticed the action, because the large smile returned to her face quickly. “Same plan as last time? Meet in twenty?”

Everyone else but Peridot nodded. Jenny got up and slinked out of the Temple. Buck and Sour Cream followed suit a few seconds after, both burrowing their hands deep in their own pockets and keeping their eyes on the ceiling as they left. In Peridot’s humble opinion, this display seemed more incriminating than if Buck had just raised the whiskey bottles in the air and waved them around.

Lapis seemed to think the same thing. She chuckled, “What _dorks_ ,” before swiveling her head towards Peridot.

And it dawned on Peridot that the two of them were suddenly alone.

Well, surrounded by a mass of children. But still. Pretty secluded.

Peridot pushed out her bench and stood up quickly. “I’d better go.”

But Lapis stood up too. “I’ll go with you. I’m going to wait outside the Temple for when Jasper leaves so I can tell her the plan. I think whispering something in her ear right next to Pearl would kind of blow our cover.”

“Oh. Right. Good thinking,” Peridot said. She kept her eyes trained on the linoleum floor as they walked out. As soon as they stepped outside, she realized just how dark it was. The moon was completely shadowed, and the campfire had not yet been started. It was eerie. Peridot swallowed before saying, “Do you want me to wait with you?”

She could just make out the shape of Lapis’s smile as the other girl shook her head. “No, I should be fine. Jasper will be out soon. And it would take a pretty ballsy psychopath to attack me when there’s about a hundred people inside the Temple.”

“Still.” Peridot shrugged. “That sounds like something you’d see in a horror movie, doesn’t it?”

Lapis didn’t respond immediately outside of a light laugh. Then she said, “Peridot.”

 _Stars_ , if her name on Lapis’s tongue didn’t make her heart explode, Peridot wasn’t convinced anything would. But she shook it off. Or, she tried. Her voice cracked as she replied, “Lazuli.”

“Are you all right?” Lapis’s eyes were serious, almost concerned.

Peridot’s face was getting hotter by the second. She thanked a nameless god that it was dark enough outside to hide it. “Yes. Why?”

“I don’t know. You’ve just been acting kind of weird lately. Flighty. Nothing’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” Peridot refused to offer any explanation or defense. She had always been a terrible liar; trying would only hurt her case.

She knew by Lapis’s drawn out, “Okay,” that the she didn’t believe her. But Lapis didn’t push her either.

“Okay,” Peridot said. Then, “I’ll see you in a few minutes.” And then she hightailed it off the Temple's porch straight to Pink Cabin, not daring to look back at Lapis as she fled.

Once she’d crashed into Pink Cabin, she slammed the door behind her and leaned against it with a groan. Just as she had last time they’d snuck away, Peridot wished that she could just collapse onto her bed and call it a night. And maybe she could’ve gotten away with it this time if not for the conversation she only just had with Lapis. How disbelieving would Lapis be—and how suspicious would it look—if Peridot claimed nothing was wrong, that she wasn’t trying to avoid anyone, and then ditched? No, she was in too deep at this point. She was going to go, attempt a semblance of normalcy, and hopefully get drunk enough that she’d be able to sleep well for the first time in a few days.

“What’s eating you, Peridork?”

Peridot looked up. She could just identify Amethyst by her foot hanging off the mattress of her top bunk. Her voice sounded sleepy. “Nothing,” Peridot said. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

There was a rustle from above, and then Amethyst popped her head up. “No big deal. You going to bed now?”

Peridot shook her head and kicked off from her spot on the door. She shuffled her feet as she mumbled, “Nah, not yet. Uhm.”

Amethyst’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

“Would you mind—uh. Can you keep an eye on the cabin?”

A flash of purple made Peridot stumble back. Amethyst had jumped from her top bunk and stripped herself of her Purple Puma nightshirt faster than Peridot had ever seen her move. The other girl planted her feet and stood in her underwear just long enough to point her finger in Peridot’s face and hiss out a “ _No._ " She then spun on her heel to dig a pair of jeans and her camp shirt out of a pile of clothes on the ground, beginning to dress herself.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m coming with! Jasper _owes_ me.”

“Amethyst, _no_.” Peridot lowered her voice, stepping forward to whisper desperately at the other girl. “There’s going to be _alcohol_ , you’re too young.”

“ _You’re_ too young, too!” Amethyst moaned indignantly, whipping around to face Peridot as she pulled on a pair of sneakers. “You’re only nineteen!”

“Granted.” Peridot pinched the bridge of her nose under her glasses. “But there is a _big_ difference between an underage _adult_ and an underage _minor_.”

Amethyst reached her arms above her head to tie her hair up and to wrap it with her pink bandana. “ _Whatever_ , Peri. I turn eighteen literally _next week_. What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is that you’re seventeen tonight, right now!” Peridot crossed her arms over her chest. “And, as your counselor, I have no choice but to forbid you from leaving this cabin.”

There was a moment’s silence. And then Amethyst barked out a laugh. Wiping tears from her eyes as she giggled, she said, “Oh, _god_ , Peridot. That’s _rich_. Good one.”

“ _I’m not kidding, Amethyst!_ ”

“Oh, in that case—” Amethyst crossed her own arms over her chest, mirroring Peridot’s pose. Her grin never left her face. “—then, _as a concerned camper_ , I’m obligated to report any misconduct on the part of the counselors or other staff.”

Another moment’s silence. Then, “I didn’t think you listened to Pearl.”

Amethyst’s grin grew impossibly wider. “I usually don’t! But I’ll be damned if I didn’t hear her give the same orientation speech every year when she was the Pink counselor.”

A final moment’s silence. “Fine,” Peridot groaned.

Amethyst let out a whoop and threw her fists in the air. “ _Checks and balances, bitch!_ Let’s go!”

\---

Amethyst was warmly welcomed by the others—most enthusiastically by Jasper, who caught the girl in a chokehold and ruffled her hair. “I think the criminal mastermind,” Jasper said quietly so that only Amethyst and Peridot could hear her, meanwhile taking a bottle from Buck’s extended hand and passing it to Amethyst, “deserves the first drink.”

“Here, here!” Amethyst cheered, unscrewing the top and taking a swig before passing it back to Jasper, who followed suit.

As the seven of them settled in a circle on the dock, Peridot realized that there was at least one other person who appeared as hesitant as she herself felt—that is, Lapis. Her eyes, narrowed and skeptical, flicked between Amethyst and Peridot. Peridot avoided making eye contact, first of all, to evade having to explain herself and, second, to evade the risk of staring.

Plus, Lapis was wearing Jasper’s jacket again anyway. That was enough of a deterrent on its own.

The whiskey passed from Jasper to Lapis, Lapis to Jenny, Jenny to Sour Cream, Sour Cream to Buck, Buck to Amethyst again, and then finally to Peridot. “Bottoms up,” she grumbled, mostly to herself, before tipping her head back and letting the liquid burn her tongue and throat. Then she passed it back to Jasper, and the cycle started anew.

It wasn’t long before the mood became silly. There would be an outburst of laughter, and then a shush from one of them, and then a subsequent, even louder outburst of laughter. The bottle had just made its way to Peridot for the fourth time when the drinking games began.

“Never have I ever,” Amethyst started, all ten of her fingers displayed in front of her, “gone skinny dipping.” Excluding Amethyst, all but Peridot put down a finger.

“Ah, man, I highly recommend it. Classic,” Jasper said, taking a swig of whiskey before passing it to Lapis.

“I think we’re corrupting her enough already. Thank you for your input,” Peridot muttered. The group laughed in response. Even Lapis cracked a smile before taking a sip of the drink and handing it off. It being Peridot’s turn, she pressed on. “Never have I ever participated in competitive sports.”

Everyone dropped a finger. Then it was Jasper’s turn. “Never have I ever—geez, there’s not a lot I haven’t done. Never have I ever spent more than one night in jail.”

No one put a finger down. Jenny guffawed. “What do you mean, _more than one night_ in jail? Why do you gotta be so specific?”

“It’s a long story,” Jasper replied, running her hand through her hair. “Peridot tells it the best. But another time. Your turn, babe.”

The warmth that was already spreading from Peridot’s chest intensified as she waited for Lapis to speak. The other girl took her time, lighting a cigarette she’d pulled from her pocket and taking a drag. On the exhale, she held up her hands again—nine fingers were raised, including the two holding the cigarette—and said, “Never have I ever been arrested _at all_.”

Jasper and—most surprisingly to Peridot—Sour Cream put a finger down each. Jasper groaned with a good-natured smile, “Ouch, babe. That was a little personal, I think.”

Amethyst was chuckling. “S.C,” she said, leaning forward to get a good look at him, “what did you _do_?”

Sour Cream chuckled back. His eyes were unfocused, even dreamier under the influence of the drink that had just been passed to him. “Disturbing the peace. Political protest. It was awesome.”

The group gave a collective hum of appreciation—Amethyst muttered, “Mad respect, brah.”—and the game continued. Never have I ever failed a class. Never have I ever had a driver’s license. Never have I ever done a drug harder than weed.

The bottle was being passed faster than the game was going. On its most recent rotation, Amethyst received it just as it was her turn. She tipped her head back to drink, turned to pass it off to Peridot, and then dissolved into a giggle fit. “ _Ten?_ ” she wheezed. “You still have _ten_?”

Peridot, both hands held aloft, accepted the whiskey. Instead of getting annoyed or embarrassed (as, let’s face it, under any other circumstances she _would_ have), she dissolved into laughter too. She felt warm and fuzzy. This shit tasted so bad but it did _wonders_ for her attitude. “I _hate_ this game, I always lose!”

“Or win!” Jenny cut in. “Depending on how you look at it.”

Amethyst pressed on. “Okay, home girl. Witness me, I’m gonna get you to put a finger down.”

A laugh escaped Jasper’s mouth through clenched lips. The resulting sound was similar to that of a balloon letting out air. “Good luck naming something _you_ haven’t done that she _has_. We’re going to be here all night.”

Peridot struck out half-heartedly at Jasper, her fist connecting with her bicep. The latter laughed harder.

“Whatever, the quiet ones are always secretly freaky, I got it.” Amethyst blew a loose strand of her hair off of her face before bumping Peridot’s shoulder with her own. “Never have I ever _done it_.”

Peridot took a drink, handed the bottle to Jasper, and held her fingers up. After a moment, everyone else seemed to realize that she wouldn’t be putting one down. Amethyst groaned as the rest chortled. Everyone but the two of them put down a finger.

“Damn it, Peri, I thought I had you pegged.”

“Nope,” Peridot muttered. She absentmindedly picked at her chin as she—like never before—focused all her concentration on not looking up at Lapis. “I’m woefully inexperienced in every conceivable way.”

Jasper finished taking her turn with the whiskey, glugging down the liquid until the bottle was empty. She motioned to Buck to start a new one, before leaning her shoulder onto Peridot’s own. “Well, not _every_ conceivable way.”

Peridot shoved her off, spluttering, “ _It’s not your turn, Jasper_.” She couldn’t help letting her gaze flick to Lapis in the struggle. Lapis’s cigarette was poised just in front of her lips, frozen limply as she stared back. A grin played at the corner of her mouth. Apparently, her interest had been piqued. Peridot’s face, meanwhile, was burning.

Jasper howled. “Get on with it then! I can wait.”

Lapis raised her eyebrows, finally puckering her lips to take a drag. Peridot, suddenly forgetful of her plan to maybe stop torturing herself, held Lapis’s stare. The other girl started to giggle, and Peridot followed. Dropping her head into her hands, she groaned, “Fine. Never have I ever smoked a cigarette.”

Lapis took another drag, flipped Peridot off as she held the cigarette between her lips, and grabbed it again before dropping a finger. Something passed between the two girls as they both examined each other’s hands—Lapis’s remaining four fingers to Peridot’s ten. Lapis winked, and Peridot couldn’t keep herself from grinning back at her. Her chest felt warm and heavy. It was awful and awesome at the same time.

But then Jasper pounced. “ _Never have I ever made out with my camp counselor!_ ”

There was a heavy pause. Then Peridot slowly— _finally_ —tucked her one of her thumbs into her palm.

The group went berserk. Between the cheering and getting thumped on her back and jostled around, Peridot didn’t even notice if anyone else had put a finger down. All she was aware of was Lapis’s eyes suddenly going wide and then, just as quickly, narrowing. She was clearly impressed, but she was also something else that Peridot couldn’t quite place.

It wasn’t jealously, was it?

No. It most certainly wasn’t. It couldn’t be.

But Peridot felt her heart constrict at the mere thought anyway.

Mostly to distract herself, she raised her fists in the air with more energy than she truly felt and shouted, “Yes, victory is mine! Praise me!”

\---

They decided to pack up and make their trek back to their cabins about an hour later. Peridot’s footing was unsure. But whether this was mainly because she was drunk, because her having fake legs exacerbated the condition, or because Jasper was leaning all of her weight against her, she didn’t know. She also didn’t care, she was just trying to get back to her cabin without face-planting.

“Ah, Per,” Jasper groaned. “I love you, you know that?”

Peridot groaned back, but felt a smile tug at her lips. “Yeah, I know that, you big clod. Come on, pick up your feet more.”

“Can’t. Too thick.”

“Here,” said another voice, and Peridot’s load was lightened a little. Teetering to lean forward, she watched Lapis duck under Jasper’s other arm. “Let me help.”

“Hey, baby!” Jasper slurred. She squeezed both of her arms, forcing Peridot and Lapis forward so that their heads almost bumped together. “My _girls_. You are both—” She hiccupped. “—so _great_. I’m so happy we’re all here together. You _know_?”

Both Peridot and Lapis had thrown their arms across Jasper’s midsection to keep from falling forward. They clutched each other’s forearms out of instinct, and Lapis gave Peridot’s a squeeze before letting go and righting herself. If the world wasn’t already spinning for Peridot, that action would have done her in.

Not a second later did Buck and Sour Cream relieve the two girls of their positions. “Yellow’s pretty close to Red and Blue,” Buck explained, pulling once of Jasper’s arms over his own shoulder as Sour Cream took the other. “We’ll make sure she gets back safe. You guys go to bed.”

Peridot rubbed her shoulder as Lapis mumbled out a thanks. Before they turned to leave, Sour Cream stopped. “Wait, before I forget. I’m sneaking out to DJ on Friday night. You guys wanna come?”

Just then, Amethyst stumbled past. “Oh, _hells_ yeah, S.C. We’ll be there for you, boo.”

Sour Cream smiled. “That means a lot. It’s at this, like, warehouse where they throw raves just outside of town. You guys will need fakes, but I have a connect.”

“Psh, I’m good,” Amethyst said, waving her hand flat in front of her face in an “it’s cool” gesture. “I’ve had one for years.” She then trailed Jenny up the path, calling over her shoulder as she went, “Meet you up there, Peridweeb.”

Sour Cream and Buck, holding Jasper between them, followed suit. And then Peridot and Lapis were left alone, just as they reached the fork in the trail. The path on the left would lead to Pink Cabin, the one on the right to the non-counselors’ lodging.

“So,” Lapis hummed. “You going on Friday?”

Peridot shrugged, then nodded. “Jasper will probably make me. So, yeah.”

Lapis grinned. “I’m glad. You deserve a little fun. Maybe you won’t lose Never Have I Ever next time.”

In spite of herself, Peridot chuckled. “The one game on Earth you can beat me at, Lazuli. I’ll finally be able to put a finger down if someone uses, ‘Never have I ever had a fake I.D.’”

“I’ve already had one, so I would’ve put a finger down at that anyway.”

“Of course,” Peridot sighed. “Did you have enough foresight to bring it to camp, though?”

“I don’t need it anymore. I’m twenty-two.”

Peridot blanked, looking up fast enough from where she’d been staring at the dirt between her feet to make herself dizzy. (Well, dizzi _er_.) “ _What?_ How did I miss that?”

“I don’t know, I guess it’s never come up,” Lapis said between giggling. “I took a couple years off between high school and college. So, there’s that.”

Running a hand through her hair, Peridot grumbled, “I feel like such a baby now. You know, comparatively.”

“Well, keep it in your pants, all right? I get you have a thing for _older women_ , but I’m taken.”

Peridot froze. Panic hit her all at once. Her lungs collapsed and a cold sweat broke out on the back of her neck. _No,_ was she _that_ obvious? She couldn’t keep her chill intact for _two goddamn days_ , and now look! Lapis knew and Lapis was going to tell Jasper and Jasper was going to _murder her_ and—

Peridot’s little remaining breath failed her as Lapis leaned forward. For a moment—one brief, horror-stricken, humiliatingly hope-filled moment—Peridot thought the other girl was about to kiss her. But then Lapis simply wrapped her arms around Peridot’s neck in a hug and said, “I’m just _kidding_ , Per, calm down. I am going to make you tell me that story later, though.”

The story? _Oh_ , the making-out-with-her-camp-counselor story. _That’s_ it. Forcing a chuckle and feeling a rush of relief flood her muscles, Peridot sheepishly patted Lapis on the back in return. “It’s—” She paused to clear her throat. “It’s not as cool as it sounds.”

“I want to hear it anyway.”

Daring to squeeze a little tighter, Peridot closed her eyes. Ugh, this girl even _smelled_ good. Peridot internally scolded herself for being creepy while simultaneously reveling in Lapis’s scent. “Okay. Deal.”

“Deal,” Lapis repeated. She pulled away—briefly pressing her lips to Peridot’s cheek as she did so—and said, “See you tomorrow.” And then she was gone, already making her way down the path to her own cabin.

“Yeah,” Peridot said, bringing her hand up to touch her face where Lapis’s lips had just been. “Tomorrow.”

Crawling back up the hill to Pink Cabin, Peridot’s head spun. Her plan to avoid Lapis at all costs wasn’t working—yet she couldn’t help but feel just a little pleased that it wasn’t.

To reiterate what has already been said, Peridot was in trouble. Big trouble. And it was getting bigger.

But, frankly, she was too tired and too drunk (both off the whiskey and off of Lapis herself) to give a shit at the moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to be safe: in anticipation of future chapters and in recognition of my real-life sailor's mouth, the rating for this story has been bumped up to "Mature." Continue at your own risk. And thank you for the love and support you've already shown me so far.
> 
> Perverts.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peridot slips up; also, Camp H.G. holds its annual Welcome Back Gala.

Graciously, any evidence of Peridot’s night spent drinking (outside the whisper of a headache) was gone by morning. She woke naturally and—once she’d determined that the slightest movement didn’t set her stomach tumbling, and that the rays of sunlight streaming through the windows wouldn’t scorch her retinas—lifted herself up to retrieve her glasses. Peridot’s sleep had been dreamless and undisturbed by insomnia. So, based off that alone, the day was already shaping up to be a pretty good one.

Amethyst’s day, however, would soon prove to not be going as well.

Pearl’s wakeup call wouldn’t sound for another half-hour, and none of the campers had yet begun to stir. So Peridot pulled out her tablet and had just opened a word document when she heard a groan from the top bunk across the cabin. Glancing up briefly, she watched as Amethyst’s hand fell to hang limply off the side of her mattress. Peridot waited a moment before turning her eyes back to the screen on her lap.

“Log date 061815—”

“Oh, _god_.”

Peridot looked up again, just in time to watch Amethyst jump down from her bed, barely stick the landing, and crash through the cabin door.

“ _Amethyst?_ ” Peridot called after her (without regard to how loud she was speaking), throwing her legs over the side of her bed to attach her prosthetics.

As she stood up to follow the other girl, Steven drawled sleepily from his bed, “S’going on? You okay?” Other campers had begun to wake up as well, wiping the sleep from their eyes and leaning up on their elbows.

“I’m fine,” Peridot stuttered as she ran out of the cabin. “Nothing’s wrong, everything’s fine. Go back to sleep.”

Once she’d set foot on the porch, Peridot stopped and looked out over the campground. After a quick survey, she spotted the back of Amethyst’s head from afar, whipping around the corner into the girl’s bathroom. With a heaving sigh, Peridot walked slowly down the steps and past the fire pit in order to follow. She could hear the telltale sounds of retching as soon as she pushed the bathroom door open.

“Hey,” she said, stepping forward and lifting herself up to take a seat on the counter in between sinks. “You okay in there?”

“Oh, _yeah_ ,” she could hear Amethyst force out from beyond a closed stall door. “I’m _swell_.” Then there were more sounds of gagging, and a splash.

“All right,” Peridot shouted above the noise. But she didn’t jump down from the counter. She stayed where she was, and she waited until—eventually—the stall unlocked with a _click_ and Amethyst stumbled out.

“Whattup, nerd,” Amethyst muttered, half-heartedly throwing her hand up into a peace sign.

Peridot didn’t respond. Rather, she reached behind herself to tear a paper towel from a dispenser and to run it under a sink. She handed it off to Amethyst as she said, “Here. Put it on the back of your neck.”

Amethyst grumbled a weak “thanks” before accepting it and doing as she was instructed. Then she leaned forward to rinse her mouth under a tap.

“Aren’t you so glad you came out last night?” Peridot asked, trying to keep herself from grinning. She failed. But Amethyst smiled, too.

“Whatever, you’re the irresponsible counselor who _let_ me out last night.”

“Because you _made_ me! You’re the one who was going to _tattle_.”

Amethyst slowly stood up straight and—after taking a moment to close her eyes and adjust to the new position—said, “Listen. If you knew _anything_ about me, you’d know that I ain’t no narc.”

Peridot cocked her head to the side. “What, are you saying that was an empty threat last night?”

Amethyst nodded, leaning her hip on the counter. “Snitches get stitches. That’s my credo.”

“Okay. I’ll keep that in mind on Friday, when I make you stay here while the rest of us sneak out.”

The other girl’s eyes widened comically. “I can change my credo, home girl, don’t test me.”

Peridot chuckled in response. “We’ll see. You feeling well enough to head back to the cabin?”

“Yep, tank’s empty,” Amethyst said, peeling the wet paper towel off of her neck to wad it up and throw it in a nearby trashcan. She grabbed Peridot’s elbow to pull her towards the door. “Come on, Peri. The faster we get back, the sooner we get to breakfast. Mama’s starving.”

\---

Pink Cabin got to breakfast first, so Peridot was pleasantly surprised to have a moment of peace to eat before everyone else arrived. That sense of peace was quickly shattered though—first of all, by Lapis’s entrance on Jasper’s arm, at which point Peridot began to choke on her juice. Then Jenny, Buck, and Sour Cream entered the Temple closely behind Lapis, and the four of them took their regular seats at the staff table. Jasper, meanwhile, sequestered herself next to Pearl at the table’s opposite end.

Peridot, still coughing, made the mistake of reaching for her juice again and taking a sip when Jenny looked at her with a mischievous grin and asked, while drawing out every word (and clearly reveling in it), “So. Are you, like, gonna tell us what happened between you and Yellow Diamond? Or what?"

She choked again. Sour Cream thumped her on the back while she, with all of her effort, willed her eyes to not glance up at Lapis. This effort failed. Lapis’s fork, which had evidently been en route to her mouth, stilled as her eyebrows shot upwards.

“Oh, _yeah_ ,” Lapis drawled, a grin that rivalled Jenny’s slowly spreading across her face. “Is that your old counselor?”

To make matters worse, Amethyst happened to be walking past their table at exactly that second. “Oh, _shit_ , I completely forgot!” she said, shoving Peridot’s food tray so as to make room for her own. “Scoot down, I want to hear this.” Amethyst forced herself onto the bench, squeezing Peridot between her and Sour Cream.

Now five sets of eyes stared determinately at Peridot as she spluttered, still half-choking, “It’s—It’s not that big of—of a deal.”

Jenny leaned further forward, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “When was it? Last year? How long did it go on for?”

Peridot’s face was burning. She dropped her head into her hands as she muttered, “It wasn’t like that. It wasn’t at camp.” She glanced between her fingers down the table at Pearl—who was thankfully immersed in writing something on her clipboard and, subsequently, not paying attention to them. “Can we not talk about this right now?”

Lapis looked down the table as well, following Peridot’s line of sight. “Come on, Per, no one else is going to hear you.” Lapis reached across to pry Peridot’s hands from her face. She held onto them once she’d succeeded, giving Peridot’s fingers a squeeze between her own. Lapis smiled—a gesture of support that did nothing to calm Peridot’s nerves. “We’re all friends here, aren’t we?”

Peridot (reluctantly) pulled her hands away and dropped them onto her lap. She resorted to staring down at them, meanwhile trying not to focus on how she could still feel Lapis’s hands on hers if she thought hard enough about it. “It’s _not_ a big _deal_ ,” she repeated.

Amethyst scoffed. “Prove it then.”

There was a beat of silence that quivered with anticipation before Peridot sighed, tipped her head back to scowl at the ceiling, and said, “It wasn’t at camp. It was at school, and only the one time.”

As the other five shuffled forward in their seats to listen, Peridot suppressed a groan. Then she continued.

“Yellow Diamond is a grad student at Smith. I knew that before I got there. But she was never that friendly of a counselor, so I didn’t think to look her up.”

“I get that,” Buck said quietly. “I’m glad she dipped.”

“What, she quit?” Lapis asked. “And that’s why there was a Yellow Counselor opening?”

“Not so much ‘quit,’” said Jenny, punctuating the word with air quotation marks, “as it was ‘strongly suggested for her to leave.’ But basically. Peridot, go on!”

Peridot actually groaned this time. “I don’t know! I ran into her at a party. My friend who’s a senior took me. Yellow Diamond recognized me and was suddenly all warm and welcoming. It was very uncharacteristic of her. But she was also wasted. And she kept pouring me wine. So.”

Another beat of silence. Amethyst was practically shaking with bottled-up excitement. “ _So?_ ”

Peridot dropped her face into her hands again. “So she pinned me against the wall in a bathroom and we made out.”

Delight erupted around her. Amethyst squealed and shook Peridot by her shoulders as Jenny slapped the table. Sour Cream started slow-clapping, and Buck joined him—shaking his head back and forth in a semi-solemn manner.

Lapis nodded once as her eyebrows shot impossibly higher, pursing her lips in a clear attempt not to smile. And there it was again—that weird look on her face that Peridot had seen the night before. It was an impressed expression mixed with something else. Again, Peridot immediately thought it might be jealousy. And, once more, she pushed away that idea just as swiftly.

She refused to let herself get her hopes up.

\---

But then as they dispersed from the Temple to get to class, Peridot gave a second thought to the whole not-getting-her-hopes-up thing. Because, as they made their way down the path to the lake together, she could swear that Lapis kept taking covert glances at her.

Not that she had any concrete proof of this, of course. Every time Peridot would twist her head to look back at Lapis, after all, the other girl was staring straight ahead. But she _felt_ it by the way the skin on her face would abruptly prickle, and how she could just pick up the slightest hint of movement out of the corner of her eye. Lapis kept looking at her. Not only that, but Lapis was looking at her _and didn’t want her to know_.

Or Peridot was delusional.

Right. She shouldn’t let herself get her hopes up. Good plan. Back to that.

She focused on the backs of the campers in front of her, which were Steven and Connie on either side of Amethyst. The two younger children had both turned into Amethyst and—by the expressions just visible on their profiles—looked concerned.

“Are you _sure_ you’re feeling all right?” Connie asked, gently patting Amethyst’s shoulder. “I’m not sure how smart it was to eat all that food right after you got sick.”

“Psh, I’m a garbage disposal. No biggie,” Amethyst replied.

“Yeah, but,” Steven cut in. “What if you get seasick?”

“It’s a lake, little man.”

“ _Yeah_ , but the boats are still gonna rock back and forth. Like this!” Stepping forward onto the dock that they’d only just reached, Steven turned to face the two girls with arms outstretched. He waved them up and down in tandem like a seesaw. “Baaack and fooorth. _Baaack_ and _fooorth_! See?”

Amethyst swiveled to look back at Peridot and Lapis. Her face, though set into a normal expression, had paled a little. “Hey, guys,” she groaned quietly. “Maybe it’s not that bad of an idea for me to sit on the sidelines again, huh?”

Lapis shrugged. “Whatever you want. I don’t want you ralphing in a canoe anyway. That’s not in my job description. I’m sure Peridot agrees, right?”

Peridot mumbled out a “right” while she focused on keeping her eyes on Amethyst (rather than allowing them drift to Lapis, as they were desperate to do).

Amethyst chuckled, threw the two older girls a thumbs up, and settled herself belly down on the edge of the pier as kids madly tore past her to scramble into the boats. Peridot watched, stepping forward to join Amethyst before she felt a sensation—like tiny pins and needles—on the side of her face.

She stopped in her tracks and wheeled around to face Lapis. At first she was _ecstatic_ to find the other girl staring back at her. Because Peridot _knew_ it, she _knew_ she wasn’t crazy! Ha!

But then she realized that Lapis didn’t look embarrassed at being caught at all. No blush, no shifty eyes, nothing. She just looked a little surprised, with her eyes slightly widened and one of her eyebrows cocked.

So maybe she _hadn’t_ been secretly gazing at Peridot. Maybe Lapis and Peridot just happened to glance at each other at the same time. Maybe Peridot _was_ crazy.

And the way that she was now aggressively staring at Lapis without speaking a word to her? That sure didn’t help her image at all.

Peridot stumbled to find her voice. “S—so.”

Lapis narrowed her eyes. “So?”

Peridot cleared her throat before forcing out, “Well, have a good class!” And then she rushed to drop herself next to Amethyst—who was now accompanied by Sour Cream—at the edge of the dock. She could just hear Lapis chuckling, climbing into a canoe for herself as Peridot stared determinately at the water beneath them.

After the boats had glided away, Sour Cream laid back, throwing his arms over his face to block the sun. Soon after that, he began to snore softly. Immediately after _that_ , Amethyst poked Peridot in her side.

Peridot shuddered and leaned away from Amethyst’s touch. “ _Ack_. Don’t do that.”

“Just trying to get your attention.”

Granted, it had worked. But still. “Just _say_ something next time, huh?”

Amethyst rolled her eyes. Then she dropped her voice to a whisper, quickly looking over at Sour Cream before settling her eyes on Peridot’s. “Why have you been acting so weird?”

Peridot leaned her elbows onto her knees and stared at her hands. “What are you talking about? I’m not acting weird,” she grumbled.

The other girl scoffed. “Yeah, you are. You’ve been acting weird for _days_. I just didn’t realize it ‘til, like, right now.”

“ _Amethyst_ , I’m _not_ —”

“ _Yes_ , you _are_! You’re stumbling all over yourself all of a sudden, and when you’re not doing that you’re quiet. Even more so than usual. You were so—I don’t know. You were _cool_ earlier.”

It was Peridot’s turn to scoff. “What, you mean last night? I was _drunk_ last night.”

“ _No_ , I meant this morning in the bathroom. And last night before you got drunk. And the whole first week of camp and—now that I think about it—literally right here! But every once in a while you just get—” Amethyst gestured wildly in front of herself, as if she were grasping for something invisible. “ _I don’t know!_ Stupid! So what’s going on?”

Peridot could feel her heartbeat pulsing in her ears. That, to her, indicated the beginning of a panic attack. Unable to respond, she focused instead on evening out her breathing. Meanwhile, her brain dissolved into chaos.

 _Just keep cool for once in your pitiful life!_ She screamed at herself internally. _Amethyst is on to you, that’s undeniable. But, surely, she has no_ concrete _idea as to what’s_ actually _going on. As long as she doesn’t catch on to—_

In spite of herself, Peridot’s eyes flicked up to land on Lapis, already faraway at the center of the lake. She was only able to admire the soft wave in the other girl’s hair for a moment before she forced her eyes back on Amethyst.

And that’s when she realized she’d just committed the worst— _the_ _worst_ —possible error by glancing over at Lapis in the first place. Because Amethyst had caught onto this fleeting slipup and had turned her own head to seek out what Peridot had just been looking at. The other girl’s eyebrows knitted together in concentration—soon intensifying from confusion—before suddenly and violently shooting up to disappear beneath Amethyst’s bangs.

Panic had completely set in by this point. Unable to hear anything past the white noise that crackled in her eardrums, Peridot could only watch helplessly as Amethyst slowly— _painfully_ , _nauseatingly_ —swiveled her head to gape openmouthed at her.

\---

The rest of the lesson was a blur. Really, the rest of the day was a blur. Peridot was only just aware of walking up the path, eating lunch, going to art class. She claimed to not feel well—which was not at all, even a little bit, a lie—in order to avoid dancing with Lapis again. She was even hopeful that the other girl would simply accept the refusal and make Sour Cream act as her dance partner instead. But unfortunately Peridot had only succeeded in worrying Lapis, who had insisted on staying seated as well in order to keep an eye on her. Lapis must have assumed that Peridot’s hangover had caught up to her, based on the way she would periodically lean in and whisper in Peridot’s ear, “How are you doing? Do you need to leave?”

Neither this demonstration of concern nor the way Lapis would tug on Peridot’s bracelet every time she spoke to her provided any distraction, however. In any other circumstance, these actions would make Peridot’s chest swell until she felt she was about to burst. But not now. Now, she could only pay attention to Amethyst, who was spinning around the room with a boy from Blue Cabin while shooting suspicious glances over her shoulder at Peridot and Lapis sitting together.

In hindsight, Peridot realized that she’d already done about as much damage as she could do, considering the way she had originally responded to Amethyst (i.e. freezing up and not responding at all). Given that, she figured it wouldn’t do any more harm to completely ignore the other girl until it was absolutely necessary to do otherwise. Peridot was optimistic that she’d be able to make it until the end of camp.

But that plan was ripped forcefully out of her grasp once, at dinner that night, Amethyst had quietly sidled up to the staff table and asked Peridot in a low voice, “Yo. Can I talk to you outside?”

“What’s up, Ame?” Jenny asked, tilting her head to the side. Buck and Sour Cream and Lapis all leaned in curiously. Peridot shrunk in her seat.

“Nothing,” Amethyst said with a surprisingly convincing air of confidence. “It’s a Pink Cabin thing. Don’t worry about it.”

As the rest bobbed their heads in understanding, Peridot reluctantly rose from her seat. Lapis brushed her hand across Peridot’s own as she passed, the former whispering a “’Night, Per,” as she did so.

The action didn’t go unnoticed by Amethyst, who narrowed her eyes at the contact. But she didn’t say anything until after Peridot was able to stutter back, “G-good night,” and the two finally exited the Temple.

Amethyst beckoned Peridot to follow her down the steps, past the empty campfire area, and to Pink Cabin. Only once she had sat on the porch did Amethyst say anything. “So,” she sighed, stretching her legs over the steps and looking pointedly at Peridot. “Dish.”

Peridot nervously glanced up at the Pink Cabin door. But before she could protest, Amethyst cut in.

“No one’s here. The rest of the Pinks are still at dinner.”

Following a beat of silence and a heavy sigh, Peridot climbed the steps to plant herself on the top one next to Amethyst. She faced out towards the Temple and didn’t turn to meet the other girl’s eye as she muttered, “What do you want?”

Amethyst gave a dry chuckle. “You know.”

A quiet, unexpected defiance started to grow in Peridot’s chest—in hindsight, it was a physiological last-ditch effort. She crossed her arms and twisted her upper body to face Amethyst head-on. “ _No_ , I don’t think I _do_ know. So why don’t you _enlighten_ me?”

“Okay. So how long have you and Lapis been fucking?”

Immediately, Peridot threw her hands to clutch at Amethyst’s shoulders. Face burning, she hissed, “ _Shhh! Someone might hear you!_ ”

Amethyst laughed again. “I’m telling you, Per, _no one can hear us_. Now tell me _everything_. How long?”

Releasing Amethyst’s shoulder and dropping her hands dejectedly in her lap, Peridot whispered, “It’s not like that. Nothing’s happened.” At Amethyst’s incredulous stare, Peridot pressed on. “No, _honestly_. _Nothing_ has happened. Lapis—” She couldn’t help throwing her head around to look over both shoulders as she said the name. “She doesn’t know that I—”

“Wanna bone her?” Amethyst supplemented with a crooked grin.

“ _Stop that!_ ”

“What, you _don’t_ want to bone her? Because the way you act around her says something different.”

“It’s not that I—” Peridot stopped, momentarily distracted by the image of herself and Lapis in—well, an _intimate position_. She blushed harder than she already had been, and then pushed the picture from her mind. “Nothing is going to happen.”

“Why not?”

Peridot spun her head to stare at Amethyst. “Why _not_?”

Amethyst shrugged. “Uh, yeah. Why not?”

Peridot barked out a laugh before she could stop herself. “ _Okay_ , for one—” She began to count animatedly on her fingers. “—because she’s _dating_ someone. Two, not only is she dating someone, but she’s dating my _best friend_. Three—for the sake of argument, considering some far-off universe in which I’m willing to throw my friendship with her away completely—I don’t feel like getting _murdered_ by Jasper once she finds out. You saw her with Lars! And all he even did was _talk_ to Lapis! And four, even if none of the aforementioned issues mattered _at all_ , whatever I might or might not feel remains unreciprocated. Is that enough reason, for starters?”

Amethyst chewed on her lip, remaining silent for a minute. Then she cocked her head to the side and asked, “Are you sure about that last one? It sure doesn’t _look_ unreciprocated.”

Ignoring the way her heart skipped a beat, Peridot shook her head back and forth. “She was just being nice. We’re friends.”

With a snort, Amethyst said, “Oh, yeah, _real_ good friends.”

“ _Stop_ ,” Peridot scolded, in spite of the smile that was creeping across her face. She squinted her eyes at Amethyst. “Why even do you care?”

Amethyst squinted her eyes back at her. “Because _we’re_ friends? And not the weird type of friend thing that you have with L, or the one you had with _your_ counselor. Like, actual friends.”

“Are we?”

“Aren’t we?”

Peridot thought about it for a moment. “Yeah. I guess so.”

The two girls exchanged a smile. Then after a minute, Amethyst sighed. “Okay, so what are you going to do about it, then?”

Peridot dropped her head into her hands. “No clue. Ignore it and hope it goes away, I guess.”

Just then, the door of the Temple opened. Out spilled a variety of campers, heading back to their cabins or heading to the campfire with Garnet, who would soon light it. Peridot spotted Lapis immediately. Steven and Connie were pulling her by her hands down the stairs. She was laughing.

Boom. Bag of bricks, meet Peridot’s chest.

Amethyst sighed again. “That’s rough, buddy.”

\---

“Log date 061815. Amethyst knows. I’m humiliated—and yet, simultaneously relieved. Evidently, I can’t effectively keep this thing to myself on my own. Maybe it won’t hurt to have someone helping me out, firstly to keep my visible pining in check and secondly to whom I can vent. Maybe then I’ll no longer feel like my body is eating itself alive anytime I’m in proximity to Lapis. And since Amethyst already figured it out on her own—and also since she’s reassured me that (in her own words) ‘she ain’t no narc’—well. She seems as good a choice as anyone.

“Stay tuned to my series of unfortunate events. More tomorrow.”

\---

The next day, a consistent buzz of anticipation was thick in the air. Breakfast, then sports class, then lunch, then nature class. The tension grew throughout the day—and once Ronaldo checked his watch and announced that the lesson was over, it was as if a dam had broken. The boys of both cabins sprinted away, hollering for Sour Cream to follow. The girls split off in a different direction, and Peridot grudgingly followed them at her own pace back to Pink Cabin.

Where, once she’d arrived, all hell had already broken loose. The cabin was a madhouse of chattering voices and hairspray fog. With a sigh, Peridot stumbled past a pair of teenagers—Orange Cabin girls who were arguing over the use of a curling iron—to collapse onto her own mattress, where Jenny already sat.

“My and Jasper’s girls somehow convinced Pearl to let us out of art a couple minutes early,” Jenny explained with a smile. “So we let ourselves in. Hope that’s okay.”

Peridot shrugged and leaned back on her hands. “That’s okay. Where’s Jasper?”

“Temple duty. She’s gotta set up. Her girls went to meet the Reds at Green Cabin with Sadie.”

“Right.”

“Jenny?” Connie had approached, clasping her hands in front of herself and worrying her lip between her teeth. “Would you mind helping me do my hair like how you showed me in that magazine?”

“Sure thing, sweets,” Jenny said, patting the stretch of mattress next to her. “Hop on up.”

As Jenny braided and twisted Connie’s hair, Peridot reluctantly rose to dress. She wasn’t able to appraise her appearance in the mirror since a handful of Pink and Blue Cabin girls were swarmed around it, but she felt she didn’t need to anyway. This year’s dance would be the exact same as all the others she’d attended before it. She might as well wear the same outfit.

A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door that preceded its creaking open. Once she noticed the head of blue hair that entered, Peridot averted her eyes down to her shoes—hoping not to look like the desperate mess that she all of a sudden felt.

Lapis found her soon enough anyway, saying, “Hey, Per,” as she brushed past her to dump a bag of makeup on what was usually Steven’s bed. She turned, hands on her hips, to face Peridot directly. At this point, Peridot could no longer avoid meeting her eye and looked up hesitantly.

And Lapis was so tragically gorgeous that Peridot felt her heart ricochet inside her ribcage.

Her hair was pulled up, framing her face with the wisps of bangs that fell loose. The bottom half of her head was shaved in an undercut, which Peridot simultaneously realized that she’d never noticed before and that she found ridiculously attractive. Simple, high-necked, black dress that clung and hung in all the right places. Lipstick so light that it almost looked like she wasn’t wearing any.

But the thing that really set Peridot over the edge was Lapis flashing a brilliant smile and gushing, “You look _great_ , Per,” as she reached forward to tug on her bracelet.

Before she could stop herself, Peridot looked down in disbelief at her own outfit: a white button-up tucked into khaki slacks. She snorted and said, with a wild gesticulation in Lapis’s direction, “ _I_ look great? Look at _you_!”

Lapis looked down at her feet, whispering a “thank you” before she glanced back up at Peridot from beneath her eyelashes. Peridot would have sworn that Lapis was blushing, but then she figured that the girl had probably just rouged her cheeks for the occasion.

“Wait,” Lapis said, tipping her chin back up and stretching her hand to pet Peridot’s hair. Not expecting the movement, Peridot instantly tried to back away—but Lapis used her free hand to grab Peridot’s shoulder, holding her in place. “Keep still, spaz, I’m just fixing your hair. You’ve got a couple flyaways.”

Peridot obeyed—whether this was by her own volition or by a natural reaction to Lapis’s touch (i.e. freezing up), it didn’t matter. She just tried to focus her attention on not leaning her head into Lapis’s hand. So she looked past Lapis’s shoulder instead for a source of distraction.

It worked. She could see Amethyst sitting on another camper’s bottom bunk, pulling a chunky, heeled boot onto her foot. Most startling was that Amethyst was already staring back, frozen mid-action, eyes wide and grin wider. Her hand, meanwhile, was on its way to giving Peridot an animated thumbs up.

Peridot felt heat crawling up her neck and face. She checked to make sure that Lapis’s eyes were on the top of her head before she grimaced at Amethyst, hopeful that the other girl would take the hint (the hint being, of course, to knock it off).  Amethyst either didn’t pick up on the subtlety, or she did and ignored it anyway. She lifted her fist to bump it in the air above her.

As soon as Lapis said, “Okay, all good,” Peridot quickly stepped away without a word. Lapis, whose hand was still in the air where Peridot’s head had just been, looked a little taken aback. Then her lips set into a thin line and she dropped her hand next to her. Peridot felt a pang of guilt that perhaps she’d hurt Lapis’s feelings. But before she could say anything, an Orange Cabin girl grasped Lapis’s elbow to ask if she’d help with her makeup. Lapis agreed, and Peridot resigned herself to retaking her spot next to Jenny on her bed.

\---

The sun was almost completely set when Peridot, Jenny, and Lapis lead the way out of Pink Cabin and up the steps of the Temple. The girls from Pink, Blue, and Orange stumbled behind them. They stepped through the doors together, and the group collectively let out a sigh. The tables and chairs were pushed to the edges of the room, which was dark save for strings of fairy lights. There were streamers, balloons, and confetti spread throughout.

A girl from Blue Cabin let out a little gasp and whispered, “It’s _beautiful_.”

Peridot rolled her eyes—it was the _Temple_ —and was met with a gentle elbow to her side. Swiveling her head to look beside her, she found Lapis shaking her head. But her lips were pursed in that way that meant she was trying really hard not to smile. Peridot grinned apologetically at her, unable to concentrate on anything but how pretty Lapis looked in the semi-dark.

The Temple was _nothing_ compared to her.

“Oh, my god,” Jenny wheezed over the music, grasping tightly onto Peridot’s shoulder to make her stop walking. She apparently did the same to Lapis, given the way she paused mid-stride as well. “Look at Jasper with Gunga. That is _hysterical_.”

Peridot’s eyes roamed the room and soon landed on Jasper. She stood in the far back behind a table that was clothed and lined with food and drink. She looked bored and—admittedly—handsome in her jacket and slacks. But past that, Peridot couldn’t tell what else she was supposed to be looking for until the slightest movement occurred at the side of Jasper’s hip.

Standing next to her was the little old woman who manned the kitchen. She, too, looked bored. But Peridot suddenly realized what Jenny was guffawing at: the height difference. The extraordinarily tall paired with the extraordinarily short. It looked like a circus sideshow.

“Gunga?” Lapis asked, also scanning the crowd. Her eyes widened in delight as soon as they landed on the scene. “ _Oh_ , you mean Nanefua? I _love_ her.”

Jenny shrugged, beginning to walk forward again. She was heading to the refreshment table. “‘Gunga’ to me. That’s my grandma!”

Lapis started to follow, and Peridot pursued. But soon they were stopped again—this time by Steven skidding directly into their path.

“Hi, guys!” he greeted enthusiastically. He wore a pink necktie that looked unnaturally large on him; Peridot assumed it must belong to his father. Steven’s face took on an uncharacteristically serious expression as he cleared his throat and swept forward into a deep bow. “Madame Lazuli, would you honor me with a dance?”

Peridot could have swallowed her tongue in her effort to not burst out laughing. Lapis glared over her shoulder at her before turning back to Steven and curtsying. “Monsieur Quartz Universe, I would be honored,” said Lapis, and she took his hand. At Peridot’s continued snickering, she turned around and half-whispered, “Shush, you. You’re just jealous.”

 _If only you knew the half of it_ , Peridot thought. But she kept that to herself.

Steven leaned forward to say, “Don’t be jealous, Peridot! I’m going to ask you next!” And then he took Lapis’s hand and dragged her into the crowd. As Peridot watched her go, she noticed that Lapis’s dress was backless, which showcased her tattoo nicely.

Wrenching herself away from admiring Lapis’s skin, Peridot weaved her way between throngs of campers to catch up with Jenny, who had reached her grandmother (with whom she was already deep in conversation) and Jasper. As soon as she got there, Peridot grabbed a soda bottle and opened it with a hiss. After taking a drink, she nodded up at Jasper. “Hey.”

Jasper grinned down at her, arms crossed. “Hey, Per. Long time no see.”

Peridot smiled sheepishly. “I saw you at lunch.”

“You know what I mean,” Jasper chuckled. “That was from across the staff table. Am I wrong, or have we not hung just you and me in a while?”

In lieu of responding immediately, Peridot took another sip. Jasper was right, after all. The most recently that they’d spent any substantial period of time together was on Wednesday night on the dock. But even then, that had been in a group. The last time they’d seen each other one-on-one must have been the night after last Beach Day, when Peridot helped Jasper get a plan together to make up with Lapis. That may have only been five days before but, for the two of them, five days was a long while to be apart.

Peridot knew, of course, that this was all her own fault. She could have sought Jasper out any night after dinner, for example. But instead, she’d been actively avoiding her. First of all, because the gut-wrenching guilt that Peridot felt made interacting with her friend severely uncomfortable. Second of all, because she feared blowing her cover, hurting Jasper, and then subsequently getting beaten to a pulp.

It was impossible to put off responding after a while (Peridot _would_ eventually run out of soda, after all). So Peridot rubbed the back of her hand over her mouth and gulped before saying the only thing that she felt was appropriate to say: “I’m sorry.”

Jasper just grinned again, and uncrossed her arms. “S’not your fault. I know I’ve been pretty distracted with Lapis since camp started, so I get why you wouldn’t want to stick around just to act as a third wheel.

Peridot forced a laugh and grumbled, “You have _no_ idea,” under her breath.

“Hang out with me now, then,” Jasper said, shifting to the side to make room on the other side of the refreshment table. “Like old times. Did you bring your game thing?”

 _Like old times_. Peridot, despite herself, was suddenly overcome with a rush of nostalgia. She really did miss Jasper, she realized. And if anything was going to keep her obsession with Lapis under control, it would be that. _Imagine how much you’ll miss her_ , she thought, _if she ever finds out and kicks you to the curb for good._

“No,” Peridot answered, hurriedly stepping around the table to settle next to Jasper on a stool. “I didn’t, actually. I’m kind of out of the habit of bringing it everywhere.”

Jasper looked proud. “My little nerd is growing up,” she said, wiping a false tear from her eye. Peridot responded by landing a halfhearted punch to Jasper’s bicep, to which Jasper responded by laughing.

They stayed there together for a while, with Jasper sporadically insulting the kids who passed them by (quietly, so that they wouldn’t hear), and with Peridot snickering and adding a mean-spirited comment every now and then. It was fun.

Until, that is, Peridot felt Jasper stiffen next to her. “What?” Peridot asked, furrowing her eyebrows and looking up at her best friend. “What’s wrong?”

Jasper merely thrust her chin towards the dance floor, her eyes unmoving as she stared straight ahead. Peridot followed her line of sight. She was confused as to what she was supposed to be looking for until she saw Lapis’s hair moving towards the center of the room. Figuring that there was a good chance that whatever was upsetting Jasper had to do with Lapis, Peridot strained her eyes to see what the other girl was doing—and, moreover, who she might be with.

The answer was obvious soon enough. Even from where she stood, Peridot could tell that Lapis was wearing a tight smile and wild eyes. Right at Lapis’s arm, in hot pursuit, was Ronaldo. Given the circumstances, Peridot realized that the expression on Lapis’s face was one of desperation.

Jasper started to roughly brush past Peridot—more than likely in order to scare off Ronaldo—but a sharp voice cut through the air.

“ _You!_ You don’t leave!” scolded Jenny’s grandmother from the other end of the refreshments table. Jenny had apparently wandered off without Peridot’s noticing, so the little woman was now alone and keeping a close eye on Jasper. “You stay here!”

Jasper turned on her heel, upper lip lifted in a snarl, and planted herself again behind the table. “Per, I can’t leave, Pearl’s got this old bitty watching my every move.”

“What?” Peridot asked, eyes flicking between Jasper and Lapis, who was still trapped on the dance floor by Ronaldo. “Why?”

Clenching her fists, Jasper practically growled, “I’m still in trouble from Beach Day! If I move, I’m fired. _Please_ , for me, go get that _freak_ away from Lapis.”

After one last glance back at Lapis—at which moment Ronaldo had the audacity to actually grab the girl’s hand—Peridot didn’t need to be asked twice. She pushed herself off the stool and around the table, making a beeline towards the pair. Her face became hotter and tighter every step she took until she finally reached her target.

“ _Hey,_ ” Peridot said pointedly as she came up behind Lapis’s shoulder. She stared directly into Ronaldo’s face—who looked startled. He dropped Lapis’s hand immediately, which then shot back to grab Peridot’s.

“ _There_ you are!” Lapis sighed, spinning around to give Peridot a dazzling smile. “I was just telling Ronaldo that I promised you my next dance. I’ve been trying to find you!”

Peridot caught on quickly. “Right, well, shall we?” she asked, giving Lapis’s hand an extra squeeze as she willed her face to relax.

“Then, might I have the _next_ dance, m’lady?” Ronaldo said, dipping into a bow as he did so. Peridot could’ve gagged.

By the tightness in Lapis’s voice, Peridot suspected the other girl felt the same way. “No, thank you, I think I should check on my girlfriend after that.”

“You could ask later, I suppose,” Peridot added, feeling a wicked grin take over her features. “We’ll be at the refreshment table probably all night. With Jasper.”

Ronaldo visibly gulped. He gave a faltering smile as his eyes roamed to the far end of the room. Jasper must have still been watching, because he only gulped again before choking out a weak, “Okay,” and slinking away.

After he had disappeared into the crowd, Peridot saw Lapis’s shoulders fall. “Thank you,” Lapis sighed, looking back at Peridot again. “As soon as Steven and I were done dancing, he found me and wouldn’t leave me alone. I swear, he must have been stalking the room, lying in wait until my guard was down.”

Peridot half-laughed, half-grunted. “Good thing big, strong Peridot showed up, huh?”

Lapis’s face cracked into another smile, a softer one. “ _Really_. God, you should’ve seen your face. You were doing a mighty imitation of Jasper there for a minute.”

“Well, she did send me,” Peridot explained, bringing up her free hand to rub at the back of her neck. Only then did she notice that Lapis hadn’t removed her hold on Peridot’s other one.

“You would’ve come regardless, I’m sure,” said Lapis. Then she stepped away, pulling on Peridot’s hand to follow. “Come on, I owe you a dance.”

As she was tugged along, Peridot threw a look over her shoulder at the refreshment table. She could no longer see it through the crowd of dancing campers, but still. Jasper was back there somewhere. Guilt clutched at her chest. “Lazuli—”

“I know, you hate dancing.” Lapis smirked. “Then come outside with me for a minute. I could use some fresh air.”

 _That sounds innocent enough, right?_ Peridot mused internally. After a moment, she muttered, “Yeah, okay. That’s fine.”

Lapis kept a tight hold on Peridot’s hand as they bobbed along, sidestepping other people until—finally, and most unfortunately—Lapis dropped Peridot’s hand to pull open the Temple door. The night was a bit chilly, but otherwise nice. The patio was dark, largely due to the lack of light shining through the windows from inside. The ground itself was dark too. Only the slim, crescent moon that hung in the sky offered any visibility.

Lapis sat on a step, pulled her pack of cigarettes and a lighter from a pocket in her dress, and lit up.

Peridot sat next to her, wrapping her arms around her knees and tugging them close. “Some fresh air, huh?” she chuckled. “That’s pretty ballsy of you, with Pearl right inside and all.”

After a drag of her cigarette, Lapis exhaled a stream of smoke and said, “Obviously you didn’t see her in there. She’s too busy policing the distance between dancers to notice anything outside of that room.”

“Well, if you’re sure.”

Lapis held the cigarette in front of Peridot’s face. “You want some?”

“Uh, I-I don’t think so,” Peridot stuttered. “I’ve never had one before.”

Lapis shrugged, keeping the cigarette held up. “I thought tonight was about crossing off never-have-I-evers?” She smirked; her teeth shone white in the darkness. “Although—despite how it looks, obviously—I’m not trying to peer pressure you into it. Just offering.”

After a minute, Peridot accepted the cigarette between her own fore- and middle fingers. She hesitated, then brought it to her lips and sucked in. Her mouth suddenly went stale. Then she blew it out. The smoke came out in an undiluted clump.

Lapis laughed. “No, you’ve gotta inhale it. Here—” She adjusted Peridot’s fingers on the cigarette, shifting them so that they rested further down the filter. “—Suck it in like you’d suck on a straw, then breathe it in.”

Peridot obeyed. Suck it in like a straw—the staleness in her mouth intensified. Then, inhale. The smoke burned the back of her throat and, despite her best efforts, Peridot began to hack up a lung.

Lapis gingerly took the cigarette back. “So, not for you?”

Between wheezing gasps of breath, Peridot replied, “ _No_. I don’t think so.”

Smiling, Lapis took another drag. “Well, at least you tried something new tonight.” She blew smoke out from between her lips. It made a ribbon that slowly dissolved into the air. “No harm, no foul.”

“‘No harm,’” Peridot gruffed, still coughing. “Tell that to my lungs.” She wiped briefly at her eyes under her glasses; they had teared up from her coughing so hard. Anxiously, she then shot a glance over at Lapis, hopeful that she hadn’t noticed.

Lapis was—just her luck—staring back at her already. She had definitely noticed. But any teasing comment or otherwise was absent from her face. It was soft, quite nearly affectionate. More than anything else, it was beautiful. She quickly diverted her gaze down at her shoes, praying that it was just dark enough to hide her blush.

 “So,” Peridot forced, standing up abruptly. “We should go back inside.”

Lapis sighed, then took one last inhale of her cigarette before putting it out on the bottom of her sandal. “You’re probably right,” she said. Then she lifted up her hands, reaching towards Peridot.

Peridot accepted them and helped her to stand. Then she dropped them immediately, eager to avoid the temptation to never let go again.

Stepping toward the door, Lapis spoke again. “We don’t want to tip Pearl off about anything suspicious, anyway. Not before we’re about to sneak off for the night.”

Peridot stopped in her tracks. She had almost forgotten about that. Sour Cream’s DJ thing at some warehouse outside of town.

Lapis turned around to look at Peridot as she held open the door. “You’re still coming, right?”

Peridot _really_ didn’t want to. And yet, Lapis would be there.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” she said, suppressing a groan as she stepped back into the Temple, with Lapis following at her heel.

\---

Peridot wouldn’t admit this out loud to anyone— _anyone_ —but the rest of the evening at the dance was actually pretty fun. As she and Lapis were on route to join Jasper at the refreshments table, Steven caught up with them. He dragged Peridot by her hand into the middle of the dance floor where Connie was already waiting, and began to dance. It was haphazard and wild and, unfortunately, infectious. So, it wasn’t long until Peridot found herself bouncing along to the music, however reluctantly.

Amethyst joined them not too long after that, and singlehandedly bumped the rating for the evening from G to PG-13. She shook her hips and tossed her hair in a way that Peridot could only describe as lewd. Peridot told her as much, too—not expecting Amethyst to respond by grabbing Peridot’s hips and pulling her in.

“ _That is wildly inappropriate, I think!_ ” Peridot scolded, escaping from Amethyst’s grasp and backing away.

Amethyst just kept grinding, her face split into a falsely lascivious grin. “Just giving you a preview, Wondernerd!” she yelled over the music.

Leaning in so that she could drop her voice and still be heard, Peridot said, “If I even let you go tonight, you mean.”

At Amethyst’s exaggerated frown, Peridot burst out laughing. Amethyst’s frown broke, and she began laughing too. Then Steven pulled the two of them back to where he and Connie stood, beginning to dance like a robot once properly situated. Peridot and Amethyst couldn’t help but join.

After a few more minutes, Peridot—exhausted—retired to the refreshment table, Amethyst in tow. Jasper was still sequestered behind the table, but now she sat on the stool with Lapis pulled onto her lap. She was whispering something into Lapis’s ear, and the other girl was smiling shyly.

Seeing this, Peridot felt her chest twist itself into little knots. But she found it untwisted a little after Amethyst bumped shoulders with her. “You okay, Peri?”

Peridot nodded weakly. “Yep. Getting used to it.”

Amethyst looked at her rather sadly, but didn’t say anything. Together, they joined Lapis and Jasper behind the table, where they picked up their game of bullying others from afar.

At ten o’clock on the nose, Pearl—with dress and hair disheveled—stood on a chair and brought the megaphone to her mouth. In a tired-sounding voice, she announced, “That concludes this year’s Camp H.G. Welcome Back Gala. Thank you for coming, now go to bed. Please.”

There was a light groan that resounded across the room, but slowly the crowd began to make its way out the door, with Pearl gently ushering them out. Fighting against it, however, was Jenny—pulling Sour Cream and Buck behind her by their hands. As soon as she arrived at the table, she placed her hands upon it, checked to make sure her grandmother wasn’t listening (she wasn’t; she had already fallen asleep sitting up), and said, “So. Here’s the plan.”

It was simple enough. Do what needed to be done to complete counselor duties for the evening: namely, make sure the campers were accounted for and in bed. Lapis would make sure the same went for Pearl by following her to the office and watching for the lights to go out. Wait a couple of minutes to make sure everyone was in bed for good. Then they’d meet up under the sign at the entrance of the campground.

“Hey, and don’t change your clothes,” Jenny added as she twirled one of her big earrings in between her fingers. “We all look smoking right now.” Then with another glance around the room—presumably to ensure that no one was eavesdropping—she whispered, “See you guys on the other side. Thirty minutes. And, break!”

The group separated. Jasper took one look around the room and sighed. “I’m supposed to be on cleanup duty.” Then after a moment, she shrugged. “I’ll do it tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, there goes Pearl. Got to go,” Lapis hissed, slipping away stealthily across the room.

Jasper followed, but not before looking back and pointing at Peridot. “You’re still gonna come meet us?”

Peridot nodded. “Will do.”

Lapis had turned back too, giving Peridot a final wave and a wink before she and Jasper slid through the Temple door. This left Amethyst and Peridot alone in the room (minus Gunga, who was still snoozing).

Amethyst elbowed Peridot in the ribs. “That wink?”

With a groan, Peridot said, “Drop it. Let’s go.”

“‘Let’s go’ as in let’s go back to the cabin where you’ll abandon me to act as babysitter for the night?” Amethyst asked as they stepped forward together. Her voice sounded tight, nearly nervous. “Or was that ‘let’s go’ as in ‘let’s go raise hell?’”

After a pregnant pause, Peridot grinned. “The latter.”

Amethyst let out a whoop, grabbed Peridot by the wrist, and pulled her to the exit in a run. “All _right_ , Peri! Coolest counselor in the _world!_ Let’s go!”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Camp H.G. Counselor Crew sneak out. Also, Peridot slips up again; only it's worse this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important: This chapter has been posted less than a week after the last update (which is a pretty fast turnaround by my standards). Make sure you've read Chapter 7 before continuing on.

Peridot had never before felt blessed for having been assigned a cabin full of morning people—that is, until she was about to sneak out for the night. She and Amethyst had hurried to Pink Cabin following the dance, and by the time they got there every single camper was already in bed (some of them still wearing their formal wear).

“Aw,” Amethyst sighed, tiptoeing into the cabin to inspect. “They all tuckered themselves out.”

“Let’s get moving, then,” Peridot hissed as she reached forward to flip the light switch. The room went dark. “Before any of them wake up.”

“Psh, you know they’re all dead to the world until morning.” Amethyst slipped out of the door that Peridot held open, who then made herself busy by closing it as quietly as humanly possible. As they crept down the porch steps together, Amethyst continued in a whisper, “I wouldn’t be surprised if they slept right through Beach Day tomorrow.”

Pink Cabin was closest to the entrance, so Peridot and Amethyst were the first pair to arrive at the designated meeting spot. It wasn’t long until Sour Cream and Buck appeared at the other end of the main campground, at the bottom of a path that Peridot knew led to other cabins. As they approached, Peridot could see Sour Cream pull a small stack of plastic cards from his hoodie pocket, shuffling them around like they were playing cards.

“Here,” he said, immediately handing one to Peridot. “It’s really important that you don’t lose that, I need it back after tonight’s over.”

After a single glance down at the plastic card—which ended up being an I.D.—Peridot had to stifle a laugh. “Uh, this says I’m forty years old.”

“Yeah, well, it’s my mom’s,” Sour Cream explained, an amused smile ghosting his face as he handed an I.D. to Buck. “Amethyst, you said you already got one?”

“Got it,” Amethyst confirmed, pulling an I.D. out of her bra to show it off for good measure.

“This is never going to work,” Peridot continued. She waved her new fake I.D. in the air in front of her own face. “This looks _nothing_ like me, and there is a _zero_ percent chance that I could pass for forty.”

“Yo, no sweat,” Buck said. “We’ve been there before. As long as you hand the bouncer a plastic card with a picture that has the same hair color as you, you’re golden. Trust me.”

Before Peridot could say anything else, Jasper and Jenny appeared. Sour Cream passed them both a fake of their own, pocketing the last one for himself.

“All right, I checked in with Sadie,” Jenny whispered as she readjusted her dress, tugging it further down her thighs. “She’s more than willing to make rounds and check on all the cabins around one o’clock.”

“Wow,” Peridot couldn’t help but mutter. “That’s astonishingly considerate of her.”

Jenny nodded. “I know, I didn’t even ask her to do that! I went to see if she wanted to come out with us. She said she didn’t and then she offered.”

“A saint among us,” Buck said, nodding along.

“She needs a raise,” added Amethyst.

“Listen,” Jasper cut in. Only then did Peridot notice that her best friend was agitated, shifting from foot to foot and looking over her shoulder warily. “We’ll toast to her once we get there. But—more important right now—has anyone seen Lapis?”

The group collectively looked out at a corner of the Temple, around which Lapis would appear if she were coming from Pearl’s office. No one came, and nothing could be heard from beyond it.

“She should’ve been here by now, right?” Jasper asked. “She should’ve been here _first_.”

“What,” Amethyst said, “d’you think she got caught?”

Jasper’s anxiety was beginning to rub off on Peridot. Her chest tightened and a chill was creeping up her spine. Where _was_ Lapis? Now that she thought about it, more than enough time _had_ passed for the girl to tail Pearl to her office, watch the lights go off, and run back down around the path to meet up with the group.

Peridot had just opened her mouth to suggest that they send someone to check the area around Pearl’s office when she heard a distant rustle from the path behind Pink Cabin, the one that led to the lake. Everyone else seemed to notice too, and held their breaths.

Then Lapis burst through the wood. She carried Jasper’s jacket in her hand, which rippled wildly behind her as she ran. Her eyes were bright and her grin covered her entire face.

“ _Go, go, go!_ ” she half-whispered, half-yelled, barreling past the group and leading the charge towards the main road.

As one, everyone else picked up and ran behind her—even Peridot, who didn’t spare a thought to her legs or poor fitness or anything else. All she could focus on was the thicket of trees ahead of them and the dirt road that cut through it, the laughter bouncing between the people around her, and the movement of Lapis’s shoulder blades from pumping her arms as she ran.

It suddenly occurred to Peridot that, over all the years that she spent sulking around camp, maybe she _had_ been missing out on something.

That thought was long gone by the time the group reached the main road. Peridot stopped running in order to place her hands on her knees and wheeze. “Okay.” _Wheeze._ “No more—” _Wheeze_. “No more running.” _Wheeze._

The rest of the group stopped too—none of whom were nearly as out of breath as Peridot.

“Come on,” Jasper said with a grin. She threw her arms over Peridot’s shoulders to pull her upright and move her forward. “You can walk, can’t you? Let’s go, we don’t want S.C. to be late.”

“S’not a big deal,” Sour Cream added. “We’ll get there in time.”

“So where is it?” asked Amethyst. “How far?”

“It’s a twenty-minute walk straight up this road,” Sour Cream explained as he led the way, pointing towards Beach City's direction. “We’ll get there before eleven—and that’s when anybody who _gets it_ starts to show up anyway.”

So they walked. Lapis hung back to be on Jasper’s other side, and Amethyst sped up to be at Peridot’s left. They moved as a line of four, with Jenny, Buck, and Sour Cream as a line of three in front of them.

It wasn’t long before Amethyst leaned forward to look down their own line. When she called, “Hey, Lapis,” Peridot felt a now-familiar sense of panic grip her.

She twisted her head to stare—horrified—at Amethyst. Peridot wasn’t certain what was about to happen, but based on Amethyst’s behavior about anything surrounding Lapis, she was certain that it was going to be embarrassing.

Amethyst stared back at her—at first, with a look of concentration that bordered confusion. Then, as Amethyst’s facial muscles relaxed, Peridot recognized a look of realization.

Lapis had already leaned forward, her attention on Amethyst. So the other girl’s eyes left Peridot’s as she redirected her focus on Lapis to continue. “What took you so long anyway?”

Peridot could feel relief flood her muscles.

Meanwhile, Lapis groaned. “ _Pearl_ , that’s what took so long. The _one_ night that she doesn’t sleep in her office! I followed her all the way to the non-counselors’ cabin instead, and then I figured she’d get suspicious if I didn’t show up too. So instead of heading back right away, I went in after her, got in bed, and waited until she started snoring to sneak back out.”

Jenny laughed from the front of the group. “She didn’t notice you went to bed in your formal wear?”

“No,” Lapis chortled. “But even if she did, she couldn’t say anything. She passed out fully dressed, too.”

As the rest of the group talked animatedly, Amethyst bumped shoulders with Peridot and dropped her voice to say, “ _Geez_ , homegirl, what did you think I was going to say?”

Peridot sighed. “I _don’t know_ ,” she whispered. “I just panicked.”

“Well, first of all, you gotta trust me—”

“I _do_!”

“Good! And second of all,” Amethyst shook her head back and forth as she chuckled, “you gotta _chill_ , dude. Do you want the whole staff to know?”

“ _No_ , of course—”

“Then quit freaking out every time you and Lapis are within spitting distance of each other! Like, _geez_ , that’s how I figured it out! And thank _god_ I did, you _need_ me.”

“Per,” came Jasper’s voice from Peridot’s other side.

Peridot spun around, forcing a wide (and hopefully innocent-looking) smile onto her face. “ _What’s up?_ ” she said—perhaps just a notch too loudly.

Jasper’s face twitched as she looked down at Peridot, half-confused and half-amused. “I just wanted to say that I’m glad you came out with us tonight. I know this isn’t usually your thing.”

Lapis laughed and added, “Who, Peridot? Not a rebel-rouser? Color me shocked.”

In response, Peridot squeezed out a chuckle that she prayed didn’t sound too nervous. At the same time, she felt Amethyst lightly punch her in the arm and whisper, “ _Smooth_ , Peri. Smooth.”

\---

Soon—after passing the street that the camp buses would take to drop them off at the beach and after passing a clump of quiet, dark houses—the group had walked far enough to finally come upon a dark warehouse. It looked abandoned, based on its boarded up windows and graffiti-tagged exterior, and Peridot wouldn’t have assumed that this building was their destination had there not been a short line of people loitering by a sturdy-looking metal door.

Sour Cream led the way to the line of people, at whose front stood a large, imposing man with his arms crossed over his chest. He maneuvered his way—and the group followed—to cut in line and approach the bouncer. Voice cool and casual, he said, “Yo, I’m the entertainment.” Nodding his head at the group behind him, Sour Cream added, “This is my crew.”

The bouncer looked Sour Cream up and down, then repeated the process with everyone else. After a moment, he muttered, “You got I.D.?”

Sour Cream nodded and reached into his hoodie pocket to pull out his fake, handing it off to the bouncer—who barely glanced down at it before nodding and reaching out to ask for Buck’s. Buck passed the test, as did Jenny, Jasper, Lapis, and Amethyst. It was with a dry mouth that Peridot offered her own fake, and as the bouncer took it from her she couldn’t keep herself from staring at her shoes.

He didn’t give it back immediately, at which point Peridot felt a cold sweat break out on her forehead. When more time passed— _way_ more time than it had taken with anyone else—Peridot looked up at the bouncer from beneath her eyelashes. He was staring at her, his face impassive. In a last-ditch effort, she forced a quavering smile.

Then the bouncer nodded, handed her Sour Cream’s mother’s I.D. back with a gruff, “You’re good,” and then turned to open the metal door. He held it open as the group filed in. As Peridot followed, she gulped in a lungful of air, not having realized that she’d been holding her breath.

Immediately upon entering the building, a wall of sound hit Peridot so hard that she nearly took a step back. There were already so many people—maybe even hundreds of them—and the multitude of conversations were causing a din so loud that, once their group had closed ranks a bit, Sour Cream was forced to yell to be heard.

“I’m gonna go do my thing,” he hollered, hands cupped over his mouth. “Have fun. Meet back out front at three?”

“Sure!” Jenny screamed back. “Kill it, S.C.!”

He nodded, and then he disappeared. Jasper then grabbed Peridot by her elbow and leaned down to speak to the remaining group at large, “Let’s go get a drink!”

Led by Jasper—and after reaching behind herself to hook arms with Amethyst—Peridot weaved through the horde, unable to keep herself from stumbling every once in a while. With great relief, they reached the makeshift bar and Peridot collapsed onto a stool.

“Shots all around! Whiskey!” Jenny announced, leaning across the bar to get the bartender’s attention. “This round’s on me, and start a tab,” she added, handing the bartender a credit card as he placed six shot glasses in a row and filled them. Jenny handed them out before she held her own aloft and shouted, “To our Sour Cream!”

“And to Sadie,” Buck added quietly.

Jenny nodded. “Right, and to Sadie! S.C. and Sadie!”

“S.C. and Sadie!” the group repeated as a chorus, and then they drank. The alcohol burned the back of Peridot’s throat, and its effect was immediate. Perhaps it was the nerves rollercoaster she’d just been on—between the sneaking out and the running off and the bouncer and the crowd and all the while being in consistent close proximity to Lapis—but she already felt exhausted. Perhaps that made it easier for the whiskey to seep into her muscles, simultaneously warming and relaxing her.

Or maybe it was because she barely ate at the dance.

Either way, Peridot decided that she liked the feeling and wanted more of it. If anyone deserved to let loose tonight, it was almost certainly her.

That’s when Jasper tapped her shoulder to get her attention. “You want anything else, Per?” she asked. “On me this time.”

Peridot turned her head to answer her, and just then noticed Lapis on Jasper’s other side. More than anything else, she noticed the way Jasper’s right hand absentmindedly toyed with the strap on Lapis’s dress, gently brushing the other girl’s skin underneath her fingertips. (What Peridot wouldn’t have given to be Jasper’s fingertips at that moment.)

Lapis, however, didn’t seem to notice Jasper’s fingertips. Her eyes instead met Peridot’s, and she gave her a friendly smile.

Peridot opened her mouth to respond, but before she could a different wall of noise hit her, so loud that it shook the windows and made Peridot’s chest rumble. From a stage at the back of the building, she could just see Sour Cream raise his arms as the crowd cheered and began to dance to the pounding music.

Regaining her bearings, Peridot yelled into Jasper’s ear, “Another shot!”

Jasper looked proud, eyebrows raised and head nodding. “Sure thing!” Then she leaned further forward to look at Amethyst. “You, Ame?”

“Not a thing! Thanks though!” Amethyst hollered back. As Jasper turned to relay her order to the bartender, Amethyst leaned into Peridot and dropped her voice. “If you’re planning on getting shitfaced, I think I better stay sober, huh?”

“Why?” Peridot asked, furrowing her brows together.

“To watch your back, Peri!” Amethyst explained, her voice taking on a conspiratorial tone as she added, “And to act as your wingman, of course.”

 “Wingman?” Peridot barked out a laugh. “Good luck with that! You’re going to have a hard time convincing some unsuspecting stranger of how much a catch I am.”

“I don’t think I need luck,” Amethyst replied. Then she leaned to whisper into Peridot’s ear. “And I don’t need an unsuspecting stranger either. Because—and don’t look, but—L has barely taken her eyes off you since we sat down.”

Peridot gulped, and concentrated on keeping her stare on the line of liquor bottles at the back of the bar so that she wouldn’t glance up at Lapis. _You gotta chill, you gotta chill,_ Amethyst’s words from earlier chanted in her head, keeping in time with the emphatic and desperate beating of her heart.

Just then, Jasper slid a new shot in front of Peridot—the rim of which Amethyst tapped with her fingernail as she drawled in a singsong voice, “Drink up!”

\---

As soon as Peridot downed a third shot, Lapis stood abruptly to grab onto Jasper’s elbow. Peridot didn’t have time to feel her chest tighten from the usual mixture of jealousy and guilt before Lapis reached forward to pull on her elbow, too.

“Come on,” Lapis urged loudly to be heard over the music, tugging on both girls’ arms until they were standing. “Let’s go dance!”

Jasper agreed quickly, stretching her arms over her head as she muttered, “Oh _hell_ yeah. Prepare to have your world rocked, baby.”

Lapis rolled her eyes as she fought down a smile. Then she glanced at Peridot, wearing an expression of both hopefulness and skepticism. Peridot realized that Lapis was expecting her to complain about dancing (as she admittedly always did) and to reject her offer.

But for the first time, Peridot just nodded. “Sounds great!”

Lapis beamed at her. Peridot felt her chest grow warm and sticky—though that might have been partly due to the alcohol making its way through her system. To distract herself from the sensation, Peridot whirled around to grasp Amethyst’s wrist.

“You’re coming too, right?” she asked.

A grin crawled over Amethyst’s face as she stood. “Uh, _duh_. That’s why I’m here, ain’t it? Let’s hit it, P-dot!”

When Peridot turned back around to follow the rest of the group to the dance floor, she briefly caught eyes with Lapis—who just blinked at her, her smile already having dropped considerably, and turned away.

As nonplussed as Peridot probably should have been at Lapis’s sudden change in demeanor, the drinks were already taking effect. So as a result, she didn’t really notice it.

Jasper had already gotten Jenny and Buck’s attention, so the six of them maneuvered through the throng of people as a line until they finally came upon a small clearing in the middle of the dance floor. It was _just_ big enough to fit them all, although the fit was tight—made even tighter as they began to dance.

Peridot, at any other time, would have been made extremely nervous by this closeness. She would have been scared that flailing elbows or hands would connect with her face, or that kicking feet would knock her own out from under her. Instead, she reveled in the energy produced by the bodies moving around her. It infected her and, soon, Peridot couldn’t help but move in tandem with it.

It wasn’t long before Amethyst, who had faltered temporarily in swinging her hips to laugh, called out, “Dang, Peri, look at you! I didn’t know you had it in you!”

Instead of becoming embarrassed and shying away (as normal Peridot would have done), Peridot responded by grinning and dancing even harder. “Well, alcohol sure doesn’t hurt!”

Amethyst guffawed. “So you’re having fun?”

“Yeah! I am, actually!”

“That’s great!” With a quick glance at something behind Peridot’s shoulder, Amethyst eyes narrowed. She looked impish. “So you won’t get that mad if I do this?”

“No, probably not—wait.” The cogs in Peridot’s brain worked slowly, and it took an extra second for her to piece together what Amethyst had just said. “What? Do what?”

“This!” And then Amethyst planted her hands on Peridot’s shoulders and shoved. Immediately, Peridot lost her footing and began to tumble backwards.

Terror gripped Peridot as she flung out her arms to try to catch herself. The attempt was fruitless, though, seeing as how anyone who was within an arm’s reach didn’t notice her falling. Peridot couldn’t keep herself from imagining her skull cracking on the concrete floor, her brains spilling out for any innocent bystander to see. She felt sympathy for the person whose job it was to explain to Pearl how she died.

 _Unless that person is Amethyst_ , Peridot thought. _Because_ fuck _Amethyst._

This internal crisis only lasted a millisecond though, because as soon as Amethyst had removed her hands and Peridot began to fall, her back collided with someone else’s shoulder. She could then feel that person spin to catch her by her upper arms. The end result was that she barely stumbled, and that she’d live to see another day.

“ _Whoa_ ,” said Lapis’s voice, so close to Peridot’s ear that she could feel the other girl’s breath. She couldn’t help shivering. Lapis righted Peridot onto her feet as she continued, “You’re having a bit too much fun, I think.”

Peridot turned to face Lapis, who looked out of breath and a little bit sweaty but so stunning at the same time. The colored lights beaming down on them electrified the blue of her hair, and it took every ounce of willpower Peridot had not to reach out and touch the halo effect it caused. Instead, she just pushed her glasses back up her face and began to bounce to the music again. “No such thing!” she shouted over the bass that pounded in her eardrums.

Lapis smirked, and began to dance again as she spoke. “Huh. So who are you, and what’ve you done with Peridot?”

Peridot chuckled, “You are so _lame_.”

Lapis made a show of looking offended—hand over her heart, jaw dropped—but Peridot could see by the subtle twitching at the corner of the other girl’s mouth that Lapis was trying not to laugh in return. “ _I’m_ lame? Look who’s talking!”

With a shake of her head, Peridot replied, “Not tonight! I’m Fun Peridot tonight! Fun Peridot sneaks away from camp to go to a club and uses a fake I.D. and drinks and dances.” Her heart beat excitedly as she spoke, the same way it would if she had just downed an energy drink. She wasn’t slurring, but Peridot’s words felt almost unnatural in her mouth.

Lapis didn’t seem to notice. All she did was raise her eyebrows and nod her head in an impressed fashion. “Oh, wow. So Normal Per is incognito?”

“Yep,” Peridot said. Then she noticed that the eye contact she and Lapis were sharing was rather—there was no other word for it—intense. She tried to distract herself by looking down to watch Lapis’s shoulders shimmy. But then she felt like a creep when she realized that watching Lapis’s shoulders was barely a step away from ogling her breasts. So Peridot looked back up to meet Lapis’s eye again. This time, though, the other girl’s stare was different. It was mischievous.

“Okay,” Lapis said, drawing out both syllables in a way that was nearly lewd. Peridot couldn’t help glancing between Lapis’s mouth and her eyes. Lapis shrugged as she continued, “So Fun Per won’t get super flustered and embarrassed if I do this.”

Normal Peridot, which was deeply buried under three shots of whiskey but still minimally present, wondered anxiously where Lapis was going with this. After all, Amethyst had _just_ used almost the same exact line and that had resulted in Peridot getting shoved. Fun Peridot, however, was too entranced by Lapis’s moving body and hair and face to care.

So when Lapis reached out to grab Peridot’s hips and pull her in, Peridot was frozen for only a moment. In that infinitesimal moment, she paused to memorize the feeling of Lapis’s stomach pushed against her own, and how hot Lapis’s palms felt as they brushed the skin of her hips between the hem of her shirt and her slacks. And then—instead of remaining frozen or backing away, as Normal Peridot was wont to do—Peridot clutched at Lapis’s waist in return.

A look of severe surprised flashed over Lapis’s face, but it was fleeting. Her smirk returned quickly, this time slightly intensified. “Ah. She won’t.”

“She won’t,” repeated Peridot.

After a moment, Lapis went back to swinging her hips side to side, using her hands to guide Peridot’s hips to follow. Peridot forced herself to look down—afraid that, if she were to keep her eyes locked on Lapis’s, that something would go wrong. And she _really_ didn’t want anything to go wrong that would stop whatever was happening from happening.

But what _was_ happening? What just happened? How did this happen? Normal Peridot was screaming for reason, for an explanation, and (most pressingly) an escape route.

Fun Peridot was having none of that, though. Fun Peridot was, instead, focused on the heat that pooled in her stomach and strengthened each time Lapis’s chest grazed her own.

Peridot gripped harder at Lapis’s hips, desperate to feel the muscles move under her dress and Jasper’s cargo jacket that was tied around her waist.

And that’s when Peridot remembered that not only did Jasper exist, but also that Jasper was probably in the near vicinity. And that also—whatever one would call what she and Lapis were doing—it probably didn’t appear any less innocent to others than it felt to her.

So Normal Peridot burst through the drunken cloud in her brain. Peridot jerked her head up to look over Lapis’s shoulder. She could see Jenny and Buck right behind her, dancing with each other and apparently oblivious to anyone else. But Jasper was nowhere to be found.

A small, quiet panic gripped at Peridot’s chest. She had barely stilled her hips under Lapis’s grasp when she felt a different pair of hands—large, hot, and clammy—grab her waist from behind.

Peridot’s panic skyrocketed until she heard a familiar laugh behind her.

“ _Yeah, Per!_ ” Jasper yelled, grinding her pelvis against Peridot’s backside as she laughed heartily. “ _Get it!_ ”

The emotional whiplash she’d just experienced made Normal Peridot retreat to the background of her mind. Fun Peridot took over once again and—absolutely _high_ on relief—laughed along with her best friend and continued gyrating. She looked up at Lapis with a grin, which the other girl eagerly returned.

Perhaps if Normal Peridot had been in charge, she would’ve noticed Lapis’s own sigh of relief.

But she wasn’t, so she didn’t.

\---

“You’re welcome,” Amethyst said as soon as she and Peridot sat themselves once again at the bar. It was time for a dance break—at least it was for the two of them, because the other four couldn’t be persuaded to join.

“I didn’t say ‘thank you,’” Peridot replied. She leaned across the bar to get the bartender’s attention, which had the extra perk of allowing her an excuse to not meet the other girl’s gaze.

“Well, you _should_ be.” Amethyst dropped her voice to mutter, “Acting like I’m _not_ the best wingman of all time.”

Peridot whirled around in her seat to snap, “You’re _not!_ You just _pushed_ me on the off-chance that Lapis would notice and catch me. What if she _hadn’t_? I could’ve _died!_ ”

Amethyst just shrugged. “You didn’t though. _Plus_ ,” she added, digging her elbow into Peridot’s side, “you seemed to be—ahem— _enjoying_ yourself.”

“Shut up.”

“Wow, you’re mean when you’re sobering up. Get yourself another drink, girl. We’re here for, like, three more hours.”

“Good thinking,” Peridot conceded just as the bartender arrived. She ordered a drink and watched silently as he made it, pouring whiskey and soda over ice into a small plastic cup. When it was placed in front of her, Peridot downed it immediately and asked for another.

Amethyst didn’t say anything. She waited patiently until Peridot had received her second drink—which, this time, she sipped slowly—looking out over the crowd. Peridot soon swiveled her chair to join her in people-watching.

Instantly, her eyes landed on Jasper and Lapis, who she could just see through a parting in the crowd. The two girls were entwined everywhere—their legs, their arms, their tongues, literally _everywhere_ —and their dancing had the effect of looking as if they were a single, pulsing entity.

Peridot didn’t feel the scowl on her face until Amethyst pointed it out. “Your face will stick like that,” she said, reaching forward to grasp Peridot’s drink and take a gulp of it for herself before handing it back.

“You sound like Pearl,” Peridot mumbled, eyes stuck on the disgusting display ahead of them.

“Actually, I was quoting something my mom would say to me. But, hey. Potato, tomato.”

Peridot finally tore her eyes away from Jasper and Lapis to look incredulously at Amethyst. “Do you mean ‘potato, po-tah-to?’”

After a moment, Amethyst replied, “Shut up, nerd.”

That made Peridot laugh, which Amethyst eagerly returned. After she caught her breath again, Peridot reset her mouth into a straight line. “Why are you pushing me and Lapis together anyway?”

“Uh, _duh_ ,” Amethyst said, eyes once again roving over the crowd. “Because you’re _nuts_ about her.”

Ignoring that, Peridot pressed, “But what about Jasper? Don’t you care about her at all?”

Amethyst glanced back at Peridot to say, “Sure I do. She’s cool as hell.”

“Then _why_ are you so incessantly rooting for her girlfriend to leave her?”

“I already said! Because you’re nuts about her.”

Peridot could only shake her head back and forth. “I find it hard to conclude that my—” She struggled to find the right word, twirling her straw nervously around her drink as she searched. “— _interests_ outweigh Jasper’s in any way.”

“Maybe not,” Amethyst said, reaching back out to steal another sip of Peridot’s drink. “But I think Lapis’s interests also matter. And I think that Lapis’s main interest is you.”

Peridot swiped her drink back and barked out a laugh. “Fat chance,” she muttered before finishing the drink and gesturing to the bartender for a third.

“Fat chance, my ass.” At this point, Amethyst pulled on Peridot’s stool so that she would spin to face her head-on. “Listen, this’ll be the first and last time I say this. I’m not the type of person to stroke someone’s ego just to make them feel better about their crappy lives, and I’m also not the kind of person to build someone up who refuses to build themselves up. You get what I’m saying?”

“I guess?”

“Fine.” Amethyst took a deep breath, then continued. “Then here it is: I like Jasper a lot. And I like L a lot. But I don’t like them as a couple _at all_. I mean, other than their crazy—and, like, I do mean _primal_ —attraction to one another, what do they have in common? Zilch, dude. _You_ and her, though?” Amethyst shrugged. The bartender placed Peridot’s new drink on the bar then, which Amethyst scooped up to sip out of before handing it over. After an extra second, she sighed. “I just _see_ it.”

Peridot didn’t speak immediately in lieu of chugging down half of her drink. She was hoping that the action would wash her heart back down her throat. After she swallowed and took a breath, she said, “Lapis and I don’t have anything in common either.”

“False. You both like Camp Pining Hearts. If you two can agree on that train wreck of a show, you can agree on anything.” Amethyst tossed her hair over her shoulder and then looked back playfully at Peridot. There was a challenge in her eyes. “Next.”

Peridot groaned. “I don’t know! I barely know her at all!”

“Maybe true. But you have all the time in the world to get to know each other. Next.”

Peridot heaved a heavy sigh. “Jasper.”

Amethyst paused then. “Look, I’m not saying you go and steal her girl right out from under her.”

“Oh, really?” Peridot couldn’t help but chuckle. “That seems like the exact _opposite_ of what you’ve been saying.”

“ _All I’m saying_ ,” Amethyst pressed on, obviously suppressing a smile, “is just be patient. They break up. You console Jasper. She moves on—probably pretty quick, too, if I’m not wrong. Meanwhile, you’ve already put it in Lapis’s mind that you could be more than just a friend, you know? So when you and Lapis are ready to, you know—” She prodded Peridot in the ribs. “— _get together_ , then Jasper’s ready, too.”

Peridot took another gulp of her drink. “I don’t know. That still sounds pretty conniving to me. Plus she seems really happy with Jasper, doesn’t she?”

 Amethyst threw her hands up in the air. “Whatever, Peri. Think what you want. But last thing I’m gonna say—” Amethyst plucked at the bracelet on Peridot’s wrist. “Did Jasper—or anyone else, for that matter—get one of _these_?”

\---

The sticky feeling in her chest returned to Peridot after about an hour of sitting around and drinking with Amethyst at the bar. It wasn’t unwelcome. What _was_ unwelcome, however, was the way her vision now appeared clipped. She looked out at the crowd of dancers and watched as their movements flashed before her eyes like there was a strobe light. It made her feel a little queasy.

“Am I drunk—”

“Yes,” Amethyst responded immediately, hiding a smile as she drank from a cup of water.

Peridot’s face cracked into a wide grin. “Let me finish! Anyway. Am I drunk, or is there a strobe light in here?”

“No, you’re drunk,” Amethyst repeated. Then she handed her the cup of water. “Here, have some of this.”

Peridot accepted it and brought it clumsily to her mouth. The water was ice cold, so cold that it made her teeth throb. “Ack.” She handed the cup back. “Thanks no thanks.”

Someone clapped her on the shoulder just then, and Peridot turned lazily around to blink up at the newcomer. It took her a second to realize it was Jasper.

“Jasper!” she called, placing her hand on top of Jasper’s hand that still rested on her shoulder. “I missed you!”

Jasper beamed down at her. “How’re you feeling, Per?”

Peridot smiled harder than she already was. “Awesome! Is there a strobe light in here?”

With a chuckle, Jasper leaned to address Amethyst. “She drinking water?”

“Trying to make her, man.”

“Cool. Thanks, Ame.” Then she motioned to the bartender for something, and as she waited she sat on the stool next to Peridot. “You coming back out to dance anytime soon?”

Peridot shrugged. “I could dance.”

“Let’s see if you can walk first,” Amethyst muttered, pushing the cup of water back into Peridot’s hand. “Finish this, and then we’ll go for a test drive.”

“Okey doke,” Peridot sighed, taking a tentative sip.

At that point, the bartender arrived with two shot glasses of brown liquid. Jasper immediately tossed one of them back, and then stood with the other still in hand. “Okay, I gotta get this to Lapis. Find us when you’re ready.”

Amethyst gave her a salute as she said, “Will do, chief!” And then Jasper was gone. When Amethyst turned back to Peridot to find her drinking the water miniscule sip by miniscule sip, she groaned. “Come _on_ , Peri! Just down it like a shot!” She then took it upon herself to grab the cup by its bottom and tip the rest of its contents down Peridot’s throat.

It worked. After some spluttering and coughing, Peridot felt like the coldness of the water was breaking up some of the stickiness in her chest. She could focus her eyes just a bit more easily, and used the opportunity to look at Amethyst with as straight a face as she could manage to say, “See? I’m fine.”

“All right then!” Amethyst stood and made a show of offering her hand to Peridot. “ _Shall_ we?”

Peridot accepted her hand and stood. She was a bit wobbly, but remained upright.

“Okay,” Amethyst said, taking a step back to look Peridot up and down. “If you can walk five feet in a straight line and then come back, we’ll go back to dancing.”

“Oh, we’ll go back to dancing, all right,” Peridot muttered, straightening up and taking a confident step forward. It was definitely harder to do than usual—it reminded her of when she first got fitted for her prostheses, and basically had to learn to walk all over again. But it was manageable. She took a few steps, paused briefly to stop the world from spinning, and then prepared to turn to get back to where Amethyst stood.

But then she heard Amethyst say, “Uh oh.”

Peridot wheeled around faster than she intended, which set the warehouse on its side. She pushed through it, trying to lay eyes on the other girl through the chaos. “Wha—? What’s wrong?”

“We gotta go,” Amethyst grunted, grabbing Peridot by the wrist and diving into the crowd of dancers.

Peridot’s brain hurt as she struggled to find what Amethyst was seeing, the thing that was alarming enough for Amethyst to be wearing that anxiety-stricken face. “What’s _wrong_?” Peridot repeated.

Amethyst replied simply, “Jasper.” And at that moment, they got far enough into the crowd for Peridot to see them.

Amidst a sea of dancing bodies, five stood stock still. Jasper, still holding a full shot glass, stood so close to Lapis that she almost blocked her completely. Peridot couldn’t see Lapis’s face, but could see that her arms were crossed in front of her. Jenny and Buck flanked the pair, both of whom looked as nervous as Amethyst did. And across from them stood a young man with thick, dark hair that Peridot didn’t recognize. He wore a condescending smirk and, from the way that his eyes kept roaming over Lapis, even Peridot—in her alcohol-infused state—realized exactly what was happening.

Amethyst pulled Peridot up to the group just in time for them to hear the tail end of Jasper’s sentence. “—Suggest getting out of here. _Now_.”

Lapis whispered, “ _Jasper._ ” It was a warning, and it was one that apparently went unheard by anyone but Peridot.

The other guy laughed once, cold and hollow. “Listen, I was just offering her some options.” He tossed the end of his scarf over his shoulder in a movement that Peridot was certain was calculated to look cool. “The prettiest girl in this shithole deserves a chance to get a piece of Kevin.”

Peridot, despite the tension that was thick in the air, couldn’t suppress rolling her eyes.

Jasper stepped forward menacingly. Lapis, who had a tight hold on Jasper’s bicep, squeezed tighter. Jasper didn’t seem to notice. “Oh, I’d _love_ a piece of Kevin,” she growled.

“ _Jasper_ ,” Lapis hissed again, louder this time. Jasper’s eyes flicked momentarily down at her before settling back on her prey. Lapis squeezed her arm again and muttered, “Drop it. _Now_.”

Jasper’s shoulders relaxed a little as she glanced back down at Lapis. Peridot could practically see the flashback her friend was experiencing: Beach Day, Lars, her and Lapis’s fight. And then Peridot observed the exact moment that Jasper decided the little punk—Kevin—wasn’t worth it. Her free fist unclenched, the one that was holding the shot glass dropped a little. Peridot let go of the breath she was holding.

And then the _dumbass_ just had to go and say, “Yeah, _Jasper_ , drop it. Give sugar tits and me a chance to get _acquainted_.”

It was all over.

In the blink of an eye, Jasper threw the shot glass from one hand to the ground at the guy’s feet. The shattering of the glass and the subsequent splash threw him off-guard. That gave Jasper the opportunity to wrench her other arm out of Lapis’s hold and to slam her fist into Kevin’s jaw.

Although everything moved quickly after that, Peridot saw it in a frame-by-frame, like an old, silent movie.

Frame one. The guy was laid out, falling into the crowd behind him. _Honestly?_ _Good,_ Peridot couldn’t help but think.

Frame two. The surrounding crowd backed away, with the exception of Jenny, Buck, and Amethyst—who moved as one to throw themselves on Jasper and pull her back.

Frame three. Lapis turned away from the scene and momentarily met eyes with Peridot before roughly brushing past her.

Meanwhile, Kevin crawled away, dodging between people’s legs as he scrambled. It was all Peridot could do to mumble under her breath, “Holy smokes.”

The understatement of the century.

Jasper turned and shook Jenny, Buck, and Amethyst off. It wasn’t a violent movement, but it wasn’t gentle either. “Get off me,” she grunted. “I’m fine, I’m _done_. Get off me.” Then she took a step towards Peridot, reaching out to Lapis’s retreating form. She caught up and almost managed to grab Lapis’s hand when the other girl whirled around to face her.

“ _Don’t follow me_ ,” she said, voice dripping with venom, before turning back to make her way out of the crowd.

There was a beat as Jasper watched her go—but she didn’t follow. Instead, she clutched at Peridot’s shoulder and leaned down to address her. “Per, _please_ ,” Jasper begged. “Follow her. Apparently I can’t leave her alone for a single fucking _second_ before some prick starts harassing her. Make sure no one bothers her, and make sure she doesn’t leave.”

Peridot didn’t need to be asked twice. With a nod and a deep gulp of breath, she did as she was told, spinning on her heel to tail Lapis.

Of course, it would’ve been more effective if she wasn’t drunk. But after a brief stumble, Peridot righted herself and weaved between bodies—which was actually pretty easy, considering most of them were still shell-shocked and staring hopelessly at the spot where shit had just gone down.

Peridot lost Lapis in the crowd. But, even wasted, she had pretty decent deductive reasoning skills. So when she noticed the back wall of the warehouse that had crumbled, leaving it open to the forest outside, she figured that was probably the best place to start. If there was a blue head of hair bobbing around anywhere inside the building, she would’ve seen it.

No sooner had Peridot stumbled over a pile of bricks and stepped outside than she found Lapis. She was sitting at the corner of the building, shoulder blades leaning on the brick wall as she lit a cigarette. Peridot silently walked over to her and sat down at her side.

Sitting felt good. The earth spun a little less when she was sitting.

“Hey,” Peridot muttered as soon as she was settled.

Lapis didn’t respond.

“So, that was insane, right?” Peridot pressed on.

Again, no response. Lapis took a drag of her cigarette.

After a pause that lasted no more than ten seconds, Peridot sighed. “You know how I supported you being mad last time?” Though Lapis didn’t speak, she did tear her eyes away from the dark abyss of the forest ahead of them to glance at Peridot. Peridot took this as a sign to continue. “I’m going to be honest, I don’t support it this time. Fucker deserved it.”

She expected Lapis to huff in frustration or to get up and walk away from her. Instead, Lapis raised her eyebrows in the slightest show of amusement.

“This isn’t like Beach Day—”

Lapis interrupted, “I know this isn’t like Beach Day.”

After another pause, Peridot asked, “So are you mad? Like, Beach Day-mad?”

Lapis seemed to think about it. Then she shook her head. “No, not Beach Day-mad. Just regular mad.”

Peridot breathed a sigh of relief.

“Just let me cool off here for a little bit,” Lapis continued, taking another drag of her cigarette. “I’ll go back inside and talk to Jasper about it then.”

“Okay,” Peridot said. And then she put her hands on the ground to push herself up.

But Lapis placed her hand on Peridot’s wrist. “That wasn’t a request for you to go. Stay. Please.”

And Peridot obliged.

“Talk to me about something else. Distract me,” Lapis requested, leaning to rest her head on Peridot’s shoulder. She used her thumb to flick at the butt of her cigarette, ash falling to the ground.

Peridot sighed deeply before she leaned her head onto Lapis’s. _God_ , she smelled good. “Okay. I’m very drunk.”

With a laugh, Lapis righted herself again. Peridot instantly missed the weight of the other girl’s head on her shoulder. “Are you really?”

Peridot nodded. “Yep.”

Lapis smiled at her. “So you’re having a fun night, then?”

“Oh yeah.” Peridot nodded again. “Nothing like drinking yourself sick and then witnessing an unscheduled cage match.”

Lapis chuckled in response, and then they were silent for a couple of seconds. “So,” Lapis continued, drawing out the word. “What were you and Amethyst up to? Before the whole _thing_ , I mean.”

Peridot grinned. _Nothing, just strategizing on how to steal you away from Jasper_.

She might have been drunk, but she wasn’t quite drunk enough to say that.

“Just talking, you know. Ragging on the camp and the kids and Pearl. The usual.”

“The usual,” Lapis repeated. Another pause—this one, strangely heavy. Then she started to say, “Do you—” But then she stopped.

Peridot turned her head to look at Lapis. She was pleasantly surprised to find that—although the rest of the world rippled in her vision—Lapis’s face was still. Peridot felt anxious to find, however, that Lapis’s face was set into a rather serious expression, lips in a tight, straight line and eyebrows knitted together.

“What?” Peridot asked.

After an extra moment, Lapis shifted onto her knees to face Peridot directly. “Okay. I want to ask you something and I don’t want you to get weirded out. All right?”

“All right?” Peridot’s voice shook from sudden onset nerves.

“Are you and Amethyst—Are you guys a thing? Like, seeing each other?”

It took a moment for Peridot to register the question. Once she had, however, her jaw dropped. “ _What? No!”_ Then she started to laugh uncontrollably.

Lapis rolled her eyes. “It was just a _question_ , Per.”

“It was an idiotic question,” Peridot managed to mutter as she snaked her hands under her glasses to wipe a tear from her eye. “What made you think that?”

While lifting her hand to take a drag of her cigarette, Lapis shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know! I just noticed that you guys have gotten pretty close all of a sudden. And _you_ had that thing with _your_ counselor—”

“That was completely different!”

“—And then you two snuck away tonight—”

“We _hardly_ snuck away. We tried to get you guys to come with us, if you remember!” Peridot leaned the back of her head against the brick wall and sighed, her laughter finally subsiding. Before she could stop herself, she mumbled in a teasing voice, “What, are you _jealous_ , Lazuli?”

The silence that followed was long enough to get Peridot’s attention. She turned her head to look back at Lapis, whose face was emotionless.

 _Was_ she jealous?

 “I’m _not_ jealous,” Lapis finally responded with another roll of her eyes. She took one last puff of her cigarette before putting it out in the dirt. “I just don’t want you to get in trouble.”

Peridot, trying not to laugh again, blew air out the side of her mouth. “Uh huh. If you were so worried about me getting in trouble, we wouldn’t be at this cruddy warehouse right now, would we?” She grinned at Lapis, and bumped shoulders with her as she slurred in a singsong voice, “You’re _jealous_.”

Lapis smiled back, shifting again to untie Jasper’s jacket from around her waist. “Think what you want to think, nerd.” She then began to shrug the jacket onto her arms.

“Well, thank you very much,” Peridot teased. “I’m gonna go ahead and think that you’re jealous.”

Lapis chuckled. “Whatever.” Meanwhile, she struggled to untangle the sleeves of the jacket to slide it onto her shoulders.

After a minute, Peridot sighed, “Here, let me help you.” She grabbed onto the jacket’s lapels and then swung her legs around so that she was facing Lapis directly.

Unfortunately, the movement turned the world violently upside down. It was all Peridot could do to keep ahold of the jacket and stay still, praying that the spinning would stop soon. It was making her sick.

Apparently, even just holding the jacket in place helped Lapis, and soon she had fitted it rightly over her shoulders. She moved her hands to straighten the lapels, whispering her thanks as she did so. But Peridot held tight, so Lapis’s hands fell onto her own.

Regaining her balance, Peridot looked up at Lapis’s face to apologize before pulling away—but then she stopped. Lapis was staring at her with a mixed expression of concern and—what _was_ the other part? Apprehension? Confusion?

Peridot’s body suddenly buzzed with warmth as she started to experience tunnel vision—partially from her drunken state and partially from embarrassment for staring back at Lapis for so long without speaking or moving away.

Wow, her lips looked soft.

_Stop staring at her lips, you clod!_

Right, look her in the eye. Oh no, wait, those were pretty, too. So dark blue that they almost looked black. Peridot remembered that that was one of the first things she ever noticed about Lapis, on the night they first met.

Her tunnel vision closed in on Lapis’s lips again. Peridot’s heart hammered so viciously that she feared Lapis would hear it.

Normal Peridot screamed at her to back away. Fun Peridot, however, told her to go for it.

So without a second thought, Peridot pitched forward to connect her mouth with Lapis’s.

The world stilled. The spinning in her brain stopped. All of a sudden her mind was clear, her breathing evened out, and Peridot was kissing Lapis and everything— _everything_ —was good. Lapis’s lips tasted only mildly of stale tobacco and bitter alcohol, but most of all there was an underlying sweetness to them. Maybe it was the lipstick, or maybe it was Lapis herself. Peridot didn’t care, she just knew she _loved_ it.

Then there was that smell that was simultaneously floral and tropical. Peridot wanted to bathe in it.

But then there was something else, a smell that almost certainly wasn’t Lapis’s but was familiar all the same. She _knew_ that smell, but couldn’t place it until she felt Lapis’s hands leave her own, still clutching to the jacket.

The jacket.

 _Jasper’s_ jacket.

The smell was so familiar because it was one that Peridot had known for years. It was on all of her friend’s clothes and in her car and in her house.

 _Jasper_.

And here she was, kissing Jasper’s girlfriend.

Lapis’s hands made contact with Peridot’s shoulders—but whether she was pushing her away or pulling her in closer, Peridot didn’t know. Because almost immediately she pushed herself away from the other girl, their lips peeling away from each other in the most heartbreaking sensation Peridot had ever experienced.

The kiss only lasted for a few seconds—so little time that she wasn’t even sure if Lapis had kissed her back—but Peridot felt as if she had lived an entire life in that small space of time. She was exhausted.

And then, once she had pulled away and opened her eyes to blink blearily at Lapis—who was staring back at her, mouth open in a little “o” (presumably in shock)—the world crashed in on her again. Peridot’s brain spun with the ferocity of a tornado in her skull, her tunnel vision continued to narrow, and—overpowering every other sensation—her stomach began to heave.

Peridot turned her face away just in time to vomit onto the dirt. And then she passed out.

\---

“You guys go ahead. I’ll stay back and wait for him.”

“Okay, be careful! We’ll see you back at camp.”

“You, too.”

The earth shifted beneath Peridot. She was only just conscious of this as her head lolled with the movement.

“How much did she have to drink?” That was Jasper’s voice, Peridot recognized it at once. In the back of her mind she vaguely remembered that she was supposed to feel bad about something, and that this something related to Jasper. But for now, all she could concentrate on was how _awful_ she felt—as if she had an intense stomach flu at the same time that she got hit by a semi-truck.

“Uh, a lot.” Amethyst’s voice. “But I don’t know! I’ve drank more than that in one sitting and been fine.”

A chuckle rumbled in Jasper’s chest, which Peridot felt on the side of her arm. That meant she was pulled into Jasper’s chest, which probably meant she was being carried. That would explain why her body felt so stiff while her head rocked back and forth.

“Yeah, well, you underestimated how much of a lightweight Per is.”

“I guess.” There was a pause, then, “Is she gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, I’m sure she will. We just gotta get her into bed.”

Bed. Bed sounded nice.

But so did being wrapped around a toilet, so what did Peridot know anyway.

\---

Peridot regained consciousness again just as she was being dropped onto something soft. Her mattress. She never realized before how much she _loved_ this mattress.

In a whisper, she heard Jasper say, “Just keep her on her side. I don’t think she’s gonna puke anymore but, you know. Just in case.”

“Don’t let her choke,” Amethyst whispered back. “Got it. Should we take those off for her?”

“Nah, I don’t know how. I don’t want to break ’em. She’ll be fine.”

“Amethyst?” said an additional voice, soft and sleepy. It was Steven. “Jasper? Lapis? What’s going on?”

Someone further away shushed him and whispered something that Peridot couldn’t hear.

“Okay,” Jasper continued. “See you at breakfast. Come get me if something goes wrong. Like, _immediately_.”

“Aye aye, captain.” Then something at the end of the mattress shifted. Amethyst was crawling up to join her.

There were two sets of light footsteps that retreated from the bunk then. Peridot managed to pry one of her eyelids open just enough to be able to see. The room was dark, so all she could see was Jasper’s shadow, backlit by the cabin porchlight, creep out the door. Then she saw Lapis’s silhouette in the doorway; it paused briefly, then followed suit.

Lapis.

Well. That was something to worry about in the morning.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second week of camp ends, Beach Day returns, and Peridot is forced to face herself (and someone else) after the Counselor Crew's night out.

Peridot had died in her sleep—at least, that’s what she figured _must_ have happened. Because there was no earthly explanation for the demonic screeching that assaulted her eardrums the next morning other than, of course, the devil itself.

As she was pushed further and further towards full wakefulness, however, Peridot recognized the sound of microphone feedback that preceded a familiarly clipped and cheery voice. Something behind Peridot’s eyes pulsed painfully with every syllable that was spoken. “Good morning, campers! Here we are, Saturday again! You know what that means!”

The din that followed sounded to Peridot like a blown out amplifier that was turned up to its highest volume. “ _Beach Day!_ ”

And as if Peridot wasn’t pained enough, she was then greeted by a kick to the face.

Oh, yeah. She had definitely died and gone to hell.

She felt scrambling beside her on the mattress. “Oh, shit. Sorry, Peri!” That was Amethyst’s voice.

Peridot willed her eyelids to peel open—and regretted the action instantly, as the sunlight that was streaming through the windows blinded her.

Amethyst then popped into her line of vision, which graciously blocked out the worst of the stabbing sensation that Peridot’s eyes were feeling. But trying to focus on the other girl’s face—which was blurred and whirling—made Peridot’s stomach turn over.

With a groan, Peridot threw her arm over her face and—through the fog of her mind—managed to mumble, “Amethyst. What were you doing in my bed?”

“Oh, you don’t remember? That’s too bad, because _I_ definitely remember,” Amethyst said. Her voice was playful, nearly coy. “And I’d hate for our _magical experience_ to just become another notch on your bedpost.” Peridot then felt a whisper of the other girl’s fingertips on the skin of her upper arm.

“ _What?_ ” Peridot recoiled, shooting upward and away from Amethyst’s touch. But then her head pulsed and her stomach flipped harder, and Peridot was kept from completing her escape by her own body’s violent protests (that _traitor_ ).

Amethyst, meanwhile, had dissolved into a fit of laughter. “I’m just messing with you, Peri, _dang!_ Nothing happened! I just crashed with you in case you started choking on your own puke. It would’ve been kind of hard to keep an eye out if I’d slept across the cabin from you, don’t you think?”

Peridot didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she remained still for an extra moment in order to allow the spinning room to slow. The other campers, racing excitedly from bunk to bunk and trading bottles of sunscreen and other supplies, did nothing to help this along.

She slowly laid back down before re-closing her eyes and groaning, “What happened last night?”

“Well, where does your memory get foggy?”

Peridot thought so hard about this that she felt a twinge in her temple. “Uh—” An image of Jasper, terrifying and tall, came to the forefront of her mind. “Jasper punched that kid, right? That was real?” At Amethyst’s nod, Peridot continued. “After that, nothing.”

Amethyst shrugged. “I can’t help you much then. You ran off to follow Lapis. The rest of us didn’t see you again until Lapis came running back inside, freaking out about how you’d fainted. Then we grabbed you and came back to camp.”

As soon as Amethyst said Lapis’s name, it rang a bell in the far back of Peridot’s cloudy mind. But try as she might to wade through the muddled mess therein, Peridot couldn’t remember what she was supposed to be remembering. It was infuriating, and it made her temples pound harder than they already were.

“Jasper carried me home, didn’t she?” Peridot asked. “I think I kind of came to for a second when you guys were getting me back.”

“Oh, yeah,” Amethyst chuckled. “That must’ve been right before you hurled the second time. Jaz said she felt you shift around or something.”

“Oh, _god_ ,” Peridot moaned, opening her eyes a bit to look reproachfully at Amethyst. “I _hurled_?”

“Only the two times, though!” Amethyst pressed in a tone that suggested she was trying to be comforting. “Jasper and Lapis took it like champs, too.”

“Lapis?” Fragmented images flashed in Peridot’s head. She was outside, sitting on the ground. Then she was puking. She knew that Lapis must’ve been right next to her.

“Yeah, you were outside with Lapis the first time. But don’t worry,” Amethyst said, dropping her voice to a mere whisper and even adding a wink for good measure. “You didn’t hit her. And based off how worried she was about you, I bet you’ve still got a chance!”

More images kept popping up—seemingly in reverse order—as Amethyst spoke. Peridot worked to piece them together, retracing her memory step by step.

Peridot _did_ suddenly remember vomiting onto the dirt next to her feet.

Then she remembered the stunned look on Lapis’s face (which was still painfully gorgeous, even when experienced secondhand).

Then she remembered pushing herself away from Lapis, removing her vicelike grip on the lapels of the other girl’s jacket. But it _wasn’t_ Lapis’s jacket, was it? It was Jasper’s.

Then she remembered a feeling of panic and dread unlike anything she’d felt before. The feeling was being recreated now, clutching at her chest and squeezing her lungs so hard that she was unable to breathe properly.

And then—finally—utmost horror struck Peridot as she remembered the sensation of her lips peeling away from Lapis’s.

She _kissed_ her. Peridot _kissed_ Lapis. _Peridot kissed Lapis, her best friend’s girlfriend._

And just as this realization had caused a bodily response the night before, it caused one again. Peridot was about to puke.

Luckily, Amethyst was ready. The other girl had evidently been watching Peridot in silence, and must have noticed how Peridot suddenly paled. So when Peridot pitched forward, Amethyst had already retrieved a small wastebasket by the bed. The latter held it up as the former vomited into it.

Once she was finished, it was all Peridot could do to collapse back onto her mattress. The cabin had gone abruptly silent as the other campers stood frozen in place.

“Well. Only _three_ times, then,” Amethyst grumbled, plastering a wide grin onto her face as she replaced the wastebasket on the ground.

\---

Amethyst soon took charge and ushered the fourteen other campers out of the cabin to go to breakfast. “Not that anybody is going to _feel_ like having breakfast, huh?” she added in a chuckle thrown over her shoulder as she closed the door behind her.

Peridot struggled to remove her legs from her position lying down. The prosthetics had apparently been left on the night before and were becoming excruciatingly uncomfortable. But, as desperate as Peridot was to tear them off, she moved slowly—partially because she was afraid that any large movement would set her stomach off again, and partially because she simply didn’t have the energy to move any faster.

Once the legs were propped against the bunk, Peridot barely had time to tuck the lower half of her body under the covers before the door swung open again. Pearl entered, juggling her clipboard, her megaphone, and a clean wastebasket under her arms.

“Peridot,” she said, moving swiftly to sit at the edge of Peridot’s mattress and placing her items down at her feet. “I’ve been informed you’re feeling unwell?”

“What would give you that idea,” Peridot groaned, tipping her chin at the used wastebasket at the head of the bunk.

“Yes, well, your campers _are_ buzzing about that, aren’t they?”

Peridot mumbled out a, “Sure,” before allowing her eyes to drift closed. They reopened sharply as Peridot felt Pearl’s hand—frigidly cold, yet somehow comforting—on her forehead. She was about to open her mouth to complain when Pearl shushed her.

“Don’t flinch, I’m just trying to determine your temperature.” After a moment, Pearl tutted and pulled her hand away. She picked her clipboard off the ground and began to write on it. “Well, you don’t seem irregularly warm. But still, you obviously have a bug of some kind. You should remain here today. We wouldn’t want to cause your body undue stress or risk infecting others.”

 _Oh, don’t worry,_ Peridot wanted to say. _Hangovers aren’t contagious—although, humiliation might be._ Instead, she prepared for Pearl to scold her about how much of an inconvenience this was to her and to the camp at large.

“Here,” Pearl continued as she stood upright. She pushed the clean wastebasket closer to Peridot’s head, and picked up the used one. “I’ll get this out of your way. Feel better.”

“Wait,” Peridot said, unable to keep herself from doing so. “You’re not annoyed?”

Pearl stopped in her tracks. “Of course not. You had no control over this. Beach Day should be able to proceed as planned without you—just this once.”

Guilt prodded Peridot’s chest. Not knowing what else to say, Peridot grumbled, “Uh. Thanks, Pearl.”

Pearl smiled a little, her hand hesitating slightly before reaching forward to briefly pat Peridot on her shoulder. “Well, you’re welcome. If you’re feeling up to it later, help yourself to anything in the kitchen. We’ll see you tonight.” And then she scooped up her megaphone with her free hand and left the cabin.

And then Peridot was alone—which she didn’t appreciate at all, because being alone with her thoughts forced her to face the gravity of what she’d done the night before.

Suddenly, the cabin seemed swelteringly hot. Peridot struggled to push off the comforter and remove her clothes from the night before, dropping them on the floor beside her bed and reducing herself to only a tank top and boxers.

Left with no other task to keep her busy, Peridot let her hand fall limply off the side of her mattress. Unwilling and unable to move her body so that she could observe what she was doing, she fumbled blindly for a bit before she felt her backpack. She then reached into its open pouch and brought up her tablet to rest on her stomach. Peridot managed to prop a pillow up so that her head could rest semi-comfortably at an angle and then, once settled, she opened a word document. Taking a deep breath and squinting her eyes to bring the screen into focus, she began to type.

“Log date 062015. I’m the biggest fucking idiot on the face of this miserable planet.”

That’s as far as she got before the cabin door swung open yet again. Peridot glanced lazily at it, expecting either Amethyst’s or Pearl’s return. She almost swallowed her own tongue when she realized that it was Jasper coming through the doorway, and clambered to flip the tablet face down onto her chest.

When she saw that the other girl was holding a tray from the Temple, Peridot was certain that she was about to be bludgeoned to death with it. Even Jasper’s grin and grunt of, “Hey, you’re up,” did nothing to settle her nerves. With every approaching step her friend took, Peridot felt her heart lurch violently in response.

Jasper _knew_. She _had to_ know. Lapis had obviously told her by now what Peridot—Jasper’s _supposed_ most trusted ally—had done. And, whatever was about to happen to her and however terrified she felt, Peridot knew deep down that she deserved it.

When Jasper reached the bunk and stretched her arm out, Peridot couldn’t keep herself from flinching. Once she’d recovered, however, and realized that she was unharmed, Peridot remained frozen. She watched Jasper overturn the empty wastebasket and balance the tray on top of it. What Peridot hadn’t originally noticed was that the tray carried food. A plate of toast, an apple, and a cup of juice. Next to the juice was a packet of aspirin.

“I know you probably don’t feel like it right now,” Jasper chuckled as she sat at the foot of Peridot’s mattress. “But you really better eat something before you hork down the aspirin. You don’t want to puke it back up, yeah?”

At Jasper’s expectant (not accusatory, not betrayed, but merely expectant) expression, Peridot blanked. All she could do was stutter, “Uh—Thank—Thank you.”

Huh. _Did_ she know? _Had_ Lapis told her?

“Still feeling pretty shitty, huh?” Jasper asked with a frown.

Peridot gulped. _Okay,_ she thought to herself. _Play it cool, then_. “Yeah. That’s—uh. That’s an understatement.”

“You missing out on Beach Day today?”

Peridot could only nod.

She _didn’t know_. There was _no way_ Jasper could know that Peridot had basically assaulted her girlfriend and still act like _this_. Relief flooded Peridot’s muscles—but then guilt took over anew. Peridot’s stomach squirmed as she responded, “Yeah. I—I don’t suspect I’ll be able to leave this bed for a while.”

Jasper laughed. “Living the dream, Per. Oh, and before I forget—” She dug into the back pocket of her shorts. Peridot, still a little hesitant about this interaction, half-expected Jasper to pull out a switchblade. She was surprised when, instead, Jasper held out Peridot’s glasses to her. “Lapis took these off you last night and forgot to leave them behind. Here.”

Peridot hadn’t even realized her glasses were missing from the windowsill. With some trepidation, she accepted them and slid them onto her face. She was relieved to find that being able to see more clearly immediately settled Peridot’s stomach a bit.

If only a bit.

Just then, the door swung open yet again. With a pitter-patter of light footsteps, one of Jasper’s Yellow campers—Peridot recognized the boy as Sour Cream’s little brother—approached the bed. He glanced briefly at Peridot with the ghost of a smile before he leaned himself on Jasper’s knee, looking up at her eagerly.

“What?” Jasper asked, an edge of slight annoyance present in her voice. “Is it time to go?”

The boy nodded, and then reached up to tug on her hand.

Jasper stood, groaning as she did so. Before she turned to leave, she looked down at Peridot with a kind smile. “Okay, Per. Feel better, huh? Doing camp stuff feels weird without you.”

“Thanks,” was all Peridot could think to say.

Then, with a curt nod, Jasper allowed the small boy to lead her across the cabin and out the door. “Let’s go, weirdo,” Peridot could hear Jasper mutter to him before the door slammed close once more.

Peridot heaved a great sigh, which did nothing to relieve the knot that was creeping up her throat. She waited until she heard the commotion of children and the crunching of gravel die away—until she was certain that the buses had left, taking everyone else away with them—before she dared to flip her tablet back over and begin to type again.

“I am the definition of a clod. A dirt bomb. A shit stain. You know, just for starters.”

\---

A while passed before Peridot could even _look_ at the food Jasper left for her, and even more time went by before she tried to eat it. She got through a single piece of toast and half of her juice before she gave up and took the aspirin. Her stomach was squirming too fiercely to do much else. (Whether this was out of embarrassment, guilt, or simple nausea, Peridot didn’t know. She imagined that it was probably a combination thereof.)

But, however little she succeeded in ingesting, it did help. Peridot had enough energy to throw her knees over the side of her mattress, reattach her legs, and clumsily stand up. She worked painfully slowly to grab a towel, her shower caddy, and an extra change of clothes—but soon enough she was able to stumble down the cabin steps and across the campground to the bathroom.

As Peridot brushed her teeth, she couldn’t bring herself to meet her own stare, reflected back at her through the mirror. She was grateful to enter the shower, turn the water temperature as high as it would go, and sit beneath its stream. The way the water burned her skin to the point of causing discomfort seemed just to her. But it also worked to clear her mind and, as she slowly washed herself, Peridot set about making a plan.

At this point, it was obvious that Lapis hadn’t told Jasper anything. And Peridot—for some inexplicable reason—had a feeling that Lapis _wouldn’t_ be telling Jasper anything. She thought back to when camp had first started, when Peridot was either ignoring Lapis completely or being actively cruel to her. Lapis had never told Jasper about any of that, had she? Setting aside the burning question of _why_ Lapis would constantly shield Peridot from her friend’s particular brand of rage, Peridot couldn’t ignore that it simplified her situation (if only a little).

Tonight, the campers and Jasper and—most pressingly—Lapis would return. So Peridot attempted to figure out her options from there.

Option One: Peridot could ignore that anything had taken place at all. She could simply never bring it up, act as normal as possible, and portray the situation as a mere drunken mistake that she didn’t even remember. Of course, Lapis would still remember that the kiss had, in fact, occurred. But _maybe_ if Peridot was able to pass off some semblance of normalcy around her, then Lapis would assume that the kiss had meant nothing and that it wouldn’t be worth ever mentioning again.

This first option was easy and, if Peridot wasn’t mistaken, could conceivably work. But it relied on too big of an assumption—that is, that Peridot could pull off a semblance of normalcy in the first place. Statistically speaking, this was improbable. The fact that she couldn’t even keep Amethyst from discovering her attraction to Lapis proved as much. And that was before Peridot had erred so much as to actually _kiss_ the other girl.

So, Option Two: she could still try to portray the situation as a mere drunken mistake, but acknowledge it. Peridot could approach Lapis directly (away from the others and especially Jasper, of _course_ ) and explain. She hadn’t been thinking clearly, the alcohol had made her stupid, she cared about Lapis so much as a friend that she feared alienating her and sincerely regretted her actions—all of which was true. Peridot wouldn’t tell the whole truth, though, and would instead act as if her perfectly platonic affection for the other girl had gotten warped in her clouded, drunken mind. Because what else could she do?

Option Three: tell the whole truth? That Peridot, in a short amount of time, had become so enamored with Lapis that she was half-willing to risk everything just for the chance to kiss her? That kissing her had made her feel complete in a way that she was not confident she’d ever felt before?

Peridot couldn’t deny that the kiss had left an impact on her beyond the twisting guilt and humiliation in her gut. But that wasn’t worth even entertaining the idea of Option Three. Option Three was laughable.

Shaking the memory of Lapis’s lips from her mind, Peridot decided that the best course of action would be to wait until everyone returned tonight. Then she could gauge Lapis’s reaction to seeing her, and she could proceed from there.

By that point—after the considerable amount of time Peridot had spent lazily washing her body, face, and hair—the water was beginning to run cold. So she turned off the tap and edged her way onto the bench in the changing portion of the shower stall.

She’d managed to towel dry her legs enough to reattach her prostheses, and was midway through polishing her glasses—meanwhile trying to ignore visions of blue hair and tattoos that were passing through her mind—when a sound interrupted her thought process.

When Peridot realized that it had been the sound of a door opening and closing again, she froze. And it dawned on her that she was alone at camp in the middle of a forest—or, at least, she was _supposed_ to be alone. It dawned on her at the same time that there were no escape routes besides the single exit out the door.

Her previous visions were replaced by ones detailing the grisly scene that the rest of camp would surely stumble upon once they returned that evening. Peridot hoped that it was a staff member who would discover her remains, rather than a camper; it was certain to be a scene straight out of those slasher flicks that Jasper used to make her watch and, as such, would really not be appropriate for children.

But then there was the sound of a sink turning on, and of splashing. Even in her panicked state, it seemed unlikely to Peridot that any psychotic killer (at least, any _decent_ one) would stop to wash their face before making their move. So—breathing deeply once to slow the erratic pounding of her pulse—she made to stand and to wrap her towel around herself before slowly pulling back the curtain to peek out.

Immediately, her heartbeat resumed its frantic beating. Not because it was some deranged maniac examining herself in front of the mirror.

But because it was Lapis.

Before she could stop herself (she would blame the shock for impairing her judgment), Peridot ripped back the curtain all the way, its rings clattering against one another loudly. She watched Lapis startle and wheel around to face Peridot head-on, while Peridot asked, “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you at Beach Day?”

Lapis’s surprise hadn’t worn off yet, which was evident in her opening and closing her mouth a few times before she was able to mutter, “I stayed back.”

“Why?” Peridot pressed instantly.

That’s when Lapis visibly recovered, crossing her arms over her chest and staring pointedly back at Peridot. “I just didn’t feel like going. Why are you so mad?”

“I’m not mad.” Peridot took another deep breath before she crossed her arms over her own chest. “You scared me.”

“Uh huh.” It came out as a chuckle. There was beat of silence, during which time Lapis’s eyes quickly roamed over Peridot before flicking just as quickly to the ground. “So—uh. Feeling better?”

Peridot nodded. “A little, yeah.”

“I see Jasper got your glasses back to you.”

“Oh.” Peridot raised a hand to push her glasses back up her nose. “Yeah. Thanks—uh—for that.”

Lapis nodded. “Anytime.” At that point, Lapis looked back up, and the two girls’ gazes met.

Oh, stars, _what_ was Peridot’s plan for when this moment arrived? Hadn’t she just plotted out her options mere minutes ago? As she searched her mind for answers, she held Lapis’s eyes with her own on willpower alone. _Ignore that they’re pretty_ , she urged herself internally. _That’s what got you into this mess in the first place! And_ think _!_

Right, Option One. Option One was to ignore that anything had happened at all.

Judging on how long the two girls had been staring at one another in the tensest of silences, however, Peridot doubted that this option was viable any longer.

All right then. Commence Option Two, now.

“Um—” Peridot cleared her throat. “Do you think—uh. Can we talk?”

Lapis nodded again, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear as she smiled sheepishly. Peridot took that as a good sign even before Lapis said, “Yeah. Talk. That’s probably a good idea, huh?”

Peridot forced a chuckle. It sounded as unnatural to her as it had felt. “Yeah.”

Lapis was looking at her expectantly, which somehow terrified Peridot while simultaneously giving her courage. As she struggled to find something to say— _anything_ with which to begin—Peridot’s eyes wandered from Lapis’s to appraise herself in the mirror. Only then was she reminded that she was clad in nothing but a towel.

At any other moment, Peridot might’ve commented on how reminiscent this scene felt.

But this was not the time.

Peridot watched her reflection flush red across the skin of her cheeks and upper chest, just as she felt the corresponding places on her own body flood with heat. She forced her gaze back to Lapis. “Maybe I should—uh.”

Realization seemed to strike Lapis as soon as it struck Peridot. Lapis’s own cheeks flushed pink before she turned on her heel to collect her effects from the sink top—a toothbrush, toothpaste, a bar of soap. “Yes! You—um. You get—You get dressed. Come and—uh. Come find me when you’re done. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” Lapis repeated. She glanced up from the ground once to look at Peridot as she whispered, “Okay. Bye.” And then she was out the door.

Peridot stood alone in the bathroom then. She was suddenly aware of and grateful for the line of toilet stalls nearby as she felt a new wave of nausea hit her—though she recognized that this queasiness was no longer a symptom of her hangover.

\---

When Peridot finally exited the bathroom—fully dressed and still blushing—she noticed that the sky had become overcast. She felt that this reflected the dread that was building up in her chest quite nicely.

It was only once she’d dropped her stuff off at Pink Cabin and descended its steps again that she realized Lapis hadn’t told her where to meet. But, given the limited options, Peridot felt that she had a good guess. So she turned the corner of Pink Cabin and headed down the trail that led to the lake and the non-counselors’ cabin.

With every step she took, her heartbeat seemed to quicken. She rehearsed her lines in her head on repeat. _I was drunk, and I was stupid. You’re my friend, and I got confused. I was drunk, and I was stupid. You’re my friend, and I got confused_. Tack on an “I’m sorry” sometime during her speech and Peridot was almost certain that everything would be fixed.

Of course, at the back of her mind, she wished that this wasn’t a situation that _needed_ to be fixed. Peridot envied an alternate universe version of herself, where she could share a first kiss with Lapis that would indicate the _start_ of something.

Alas, Peridot lived in _this_ universe. So, fix it she must.

The trail passed beneath her quickly, and all too soon her internal mantra— _I was drunk, and I was stupid_ —was interrupted when she spotted Lapis sitting at the end of the dock. Peridot stopped walking. Lapis hadn’t seemed to notice her approaching, based on how she was still facing outward towards the lake. She was wearing her camp T-shirt, which served to cover up her tattoo. Peridot felt grateful for this; after all, the fewer distractions, the better. So with a deep breath meant to calm herself (but which only served to make her feel more lightheaded), Peridot took a step and continued making her way forward.

Once she’d stepped onto the dock, Peridot cleared her throat. Lapis turned towards the sound immediately, the corners of her mouth twitching in what Peridot supposed was a hesitant smile.

“Hey,” said Lapis.

“Hey.” Peridot moved to sit at the edge of the dock as well, being particularly mindful of not sitting too close. She stared out at the water to keep herself from looking at Lapis. Now was not the time to get lost in the wave of Lapis’s hair or the freckles that were spattered over her nose. Now was the time for business.

After an extra minute of silence, Peridot could hear Lapis sigh. “So.”

Now or never. Peridot wheeled around to look at Lapis directly. “I’m sorry.”

If Lapis was startled, she didn’t show it. She looked down at her hands, crossed in her lap, as she started to say, “You don’t have to. It’s all—”

“ _No_ ,” Peridot interrupted. Lapis looked up again to meet her stare. Peridot felt warm and uncomfortable under the intense gaze, but she pressed on. _Now or never._ “No, it’s not all right. I was drunk, and I was stupid—”

“Peridot—”

Peridot held up her hands to keep Lapis from continuing. “ _Please_ , let me finish. I _really_ regret my actions last night. That—That _one_ action in particular.”

“The kiss?”

Peridot nearly flinched. “Yes. That. I—” She had to stop to take a breath. Lapis’s eyes hadn’t yet left her own, and Peridot felt so much as if she were under a microscope that she forced her stare down. “I apologize for doing something to make you feel uncomfortable. Believe me, that was not at all my intention.”

“What _was_ your intention?”

Peridot couldn’t keep her eyes from jumping back up to meet Lapis’s. There was that soft expression that Peridot had come to recognize as something that was so distinctly _Lapis_ —but there was something else, too. There was a pointedness.

What _was_ Peridot’s intention last night? Was it some ploy to get Lapis to fall for her, or was it just for a taste of what Peridot was missing?

Peridot said neither of those things. What she said was, “I can’t say I truly _had_ an intention. I just—” Her heart needed to stop beating so hard if she was to have a prayer of finishing this conversation. “You’re my friend. I just got confused. Like I said. Drunk and stupid.” After an extra pause, she added, “And I’m _sorry_.”

Lapis seemed to mull this over for a minute, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. It was the ultimate test of Peridot’s resolve not to stare at the other girl’s mouth as she did so. Meanwhile, as she waited for a response, pressure mounted on Peridot’s chest—like the now-familiar bag of bricks had multiplied and were suffocating her.

After what felt like a lifetime, Lapis dropped her gaze. Instead, she looked out over the lake. Quietly, she said, “Yeah, I figured it was something like that.”

Relief flooded Peridot’s entire body. “Oh!” she breathed out, trying her hardest not to smile too hard. _It worked!_ “Good. Right. Um—” She swallowed. “So?”

Lapis looked back at her. Her eyes narrowed as a smirk crept across her face. “We’re cool.”

“Cool,” Peridot repeated.

Lapis chuckled. She added, “Honestly, I’m sort of surprised you remembered anything anyway. I assumed you wouldn’t. You weren’t—shall we say—in such _good form_ , were you?”

Peridot’s face and neck warmed. “Well, that wasn’t an ill-informed guess. I _don’t_ remember anything past—well. Past _that_.”

“Nothing after you puked and passed out? Oh, well, then allow me to enlighten you!”

Lapis filled Peridot in on how the night ended—complete with elaborate hand gestures. After running back inside the warehouse to get the rest of their group’s attention, Lapis had led Jasper outside to where Peridot was sprawled out on the dirt. Jasper had scooped her up bridal style—at which point Lapis had removed Peridot’s glasses, afraid that they’d somehow get crushed—and walked her around the side of the building. Buck had stayed behind so that he could find Sour Cream once his set was done, while Jenny, Amethyst, and Lapis went with Jasper as she carried Peridot back to camp. At some point, Peridot threw up a second time; Jasper apparently thought that was funny, if Lapis’s description of how hard she had laughed was accurate at all. Once they’d reentered the campgrounds, Jenny ran ahead to let Sadie know they’d gotten back early, and the rest of them went to Pink Cabin.

“Oh, I think I actually woke up a little then,” Peridot cut in, laughing a little herself. She was semi-embarrassed to hear the eagerness in her own voice, but her sense of relief was enough to make her feel drunk all over again. Listening to Lapis’s retell last night’s events felt natural and not awkward at all—for which Peridot was extraordinarily thankful.

Lapis nodded, smiling. “I thought you had, right as Jasper and I were leaving. I’m just relieved that no one else did, because that would’ve been hard to explain. Well, I mean, Steven woke up for a second. But I think I convinced him that he was dreaming, because he dropped back off in a second. I’m pretty sure that he doesn’t remember a thing.”

“Lucky him,” Peridot added.

Just then, a roll of thunder echoed around the surrounding woods. The sky had darkened considerably and—if the approaching black clouds were any indication—it appeared as if a summer storm was hurdling their way.

“We should get inside,” Lapis sighed, standing from her place on the edge of the dock and brushing herself off. She then offered her hand to Peridot. “You hungry?”

Peridot accepted her hand, tried not to concern herself too much with how soft Lapis’s skin was, and allowed Lapis to pull her up to a standing position. She dropped Lapis’s hand immediately, and then cleared her throat. “Not at all.”

Lapis tipped back her head and laughed. “Right, I should’ve known. Come with me to the Temple anyway?”

Peridot nodded, and followed suit. Without really thinking of _what_ she was saying—focused only on her desire for this conversation to continue—Peridot said, “So, did you and Jasper get a chance to talk after?”

What Peridot had _meant_ was whether Lapis and Jasper had reconciled post-Kevin, the prick from the night before. When Peridot realized what it sounded like she’d meant, however, she was overwhelmed by the sudden desire to kick herself.

Before they’d even stepped off the wood of the dock, Lapis stopped in her tracks and whirled around to face Peridot. Her face was stern. “About?”

“About the fight? When she punched that kid?”

“ _Oh_.” Lapis shook her head. “No. Not really. We kind of forgot about it.”

“Oh, okay.”

 _Nice going, Peridot,_ she inwardly scolded herself. _Way to make it weird._

But after an extra moment (and figuring that she had nothing left to lose) Peridot added, “Not about—you know—either?”

Lapis stepped forward again, Peridot following. “ _No_ ,” Lapis said simply.

“Oh, okay,” Peridot repeated. They took a few steps in silence before the question eating away at the back of her mind forced Peridot to stop walking again. “Lapis.”

Lapis stopped too. “What?”

“Why _didn’t_ you tell her?”

Lapis rolled her eyes. “Because she would _kill_ us. And, you know. I didn’t think it was worth bringing up.”

Peridot couldn’t pretend that that last comment didn’t sting a little. But, seeing as how that sentiment was what she wanted Lapis to think anyway, she couldn’t really complain. All Peridot could say was, “You mean she’d kill _me_.”

Lapis shrugged, and started to turn back around to continue up the path. “It takes two to tango, Per. I mean, I’m just as guilty for kissing you back. So—”

“Wait.”

It felt as if the earth had abruptly disappeared from beneath Peridot’s feet. Another rumble of thunder sounded off close by, but she was numb to it. She was too busy trying to work out what Lapis had just said to hear anything else.

“You—” Peridot swallowed. Her mouth was suddenly dry. “You kissed me back?”

Lapis had once again stopped in her tracks. She turned around to appraise Peridot, and Peridot couldn’t help noticing how pink her cheeks had become. Lapis licked her upper lip. “You didn’t—”

“No,” Peridot interrupted.

The silence that enveloped them then was heavy. It did nothing to help sort out the jumbled mess in Peridot’s brain. The only thing on which she could focus was this single thought on repeat: _She kissed me back. She kissed me back. She kissed me back._

Her mind was so sluggish, in fact, that it took her too long to realize that Lapis had taken a step towards her, leaving her with no time to back away. Instead, Peridot stood frozen as Lapis placed one hand on the back of her head and the other hand on the back of her neck, pulling her in to press their lips together.

This kiss only lasted a second, but that was just long enough for Peridot’s to completely let go of whatever control she had left. Those _lips_ , that _smell_. She was unconsciously raising her arms to grab at Lapis’s hips before there was a third, astonishingly loud clap of thunder. Rain started to pour all at once, the trees above the two girls offering little in the way of shelter.

It was as if a switch was turned off—like how it must feel to wake up from a hypnosis-induced trance. Lapis dropped her hands to push against Peridot’s shoulders, and no sooner had she pulled away than her hand clamped over her mouth.

She looked horrified.

Lapis didn’t say anything. She merely shook her head once before she took off in a run, bounding down the path and turning to head towards the non-counselors’ cabin.

It took an extra second for the rain to soak Peridot thoroughly to the bone, as she stared dumbstruck at Lapis’s retreating form. Only a second after that did she take off too, barreling forward to try to catch up.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peridot and Lapis talk it out (among other things).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important: This chapter has been posted only a week after the last update (which is a pretty fast turnaround by my standards). Make sure you've read Chapter 9 before continuing on.
> 
> ALSO IMPORTANT: This chapter gets a little explicit. I'm not sorry, but I still feel that it's only right to warn you. Read on at your own risk.

Lapis was (unsurprisingly) faster and more nimble than Peridot could ever dream of being. As it was, the cabin door slammed closed before Peridot even arrived at the bottom of the porch steps. She—as hastily as she could while simultaneously taking care not to slip—climbed onto the porch and immediately began rapping her knuckles on the door.

“ _Lapis!_ ” she called. “ _Let me in, right now!_ ”

Peridot’s fist paused in its pounding as she strained her ears to listen for—well, _anything_. Lapis neither said anything in response nor opened the door. Peridot waited an extra second before she started again, knocking with far more vehemence.

Her mind was going haywire, and Peridot concentrated harder on beating down the door to distract herself from having to concentrate on anything else. Like Lapis, and Lapis’s mouth, and the way Lapis’s hands felt in her hair, and, and, and—

“ _Lapis!_ ” Peridot hollered again, slamming both of her hands against the barrier before stepping away to swallow a lungful of air. Meanwhile, the rain continued beating down on her relentlessly. She waited—for Lapis to open the door, for Lapis to say something, for _anything_ —in vain, pushing her sopping wet hair away from her face and staring hopelessly at the handle.

It was at that moment that Peridot realized, in her panic, that she’d forgotten that none of the cabin doors had locks. Abandoning all niceties, Peridot jumped forward and nearly ripped the handle off the door as she burst through.

The sound of the rain on the roof was deafening, but Peridot tuned it out. All she could focus on was Lapis, who was standing in the middle of the room, faced away from the door with hands propped on her hips.

Kicking the door shut behind her, Peridot stomped forward to stare helplessly at Lapis’s back. “ _What_ was _that?_ ”

She watched as Lapis shrugged her shoulders. Lapis didn’t do—or say—anything more.

Peridot moved to grab Lapis by her elbow, spinning her around to face her. Lapis went with the motion obediently, but refused to meet Peridot’s eye. She stared determinately at something beyond Peridot’s shoulder as Peridot hissed, “That _stunt_ deserves an _explanation, don’t you think?_ ”

There was a beat of silence before Lapis whispered, “I’m _sorry._ ”

Frustration spilled out of Peridot in a sharp, “Don’t be _sorry!_ Just tell me what the _fuck_ is going on!”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Well, _tough!_ Because that’s not up to you!”

“ _I don’t want to talk about it_ ,” Lapis pressed, finally meeting Peridot’s stare. Her eyes were narrowed, scared and angry at the same time. They were quite nearly dangerous.

 _Nearly_  being the operative word, as Peridot watched something behind Lapis’s eyes shift. They softened, but in a different way than what Peridot recognized as Lapis’s usual soft expression. They softened in a way that bore straight through Peridot—through her mind, past her heart, and straight to the bottom of her gut. Peridot realized that she’d previously had _no_ idea what real danger looked like until Lapis began looking at her like _that_.

“I don’t want to talk _at all_ ,” Lapis continued, her voice so low that Peridot felt the desire to lean forward—whether to hear better or just to be closer, she had no idea.

Despite how thoroughly soaked Peridot’s exterior was, her mouth was dry. Peridot swallowed and, unable to control herself, licked her lips in order to relieve at least _some_ of the discomfort she was feeling. She realized this had been the wrong move a moment too late as she watched Lapis’s eyes dart down to look at her mouth.

Then Lapis’s eyes came up to meet her own again.

When had they gotten so close? They had somehow come within a breath of each other without her noticing. Peridot remembered, too, that she had yet to release her hold on Lapis’s elbow and—upon remembering—couldn’t stop herself from tightening her hand around it.

There were a hundred, a thousand, a _million_ reasons why Peridot should’ve dropped her hand and stepped away, why she should’ve stopped to collect herself. But she forgot all of those reasons in the same instant that she and Lapis apparently had the same thought—that thought, of course, being “ _fuck it._ ”

Peridot pulled Lapis in by her elbow at the same time that Lapis latched her hands around the back of her neck. They came crashing together, and at every point where they connected—their mouths, their chests, their hips—Peridot’s felt her skin burn in the most unbelievably intoxicating way.

As she felt Lapis’s fingers tangle into her hair, Peridot brought her hands to clutch at Lapis’s lower back. The skin that was exposed there was hot and soft and—without being really aware of what she was doing—Peridot allowed her hands to drift up and around Lapis’s sides, just below her ribcage where the bottom of her shirt began.

All the while, they continued kissing hungrily. With the taste of Lapis’s lips and the way Lapis was tugging lightly on her hair and the sudden (but not unwelcome) presence of Lapis’s tongue on her teeth, Peridot felt as if her entire body was set on fire. With the sensory overload she was experiencing, her mind was a chaotic disaster. She could form no clear thought outside of random words—“skin” and “warm” and “mouth” and “Lapis,” “Lapis, “Lapis.” It took her by surprise then, once Lapis starting stepping backwards, pulling Peridot along by her grip on the back of her neck. She followed, trying so hard to focus on not stumbling that she was forced to stop kissing.

Only once her lips had left Lapis’s did Peridot realize how short of breath she was. Between her gulping for air, the only other thing Peridot could do was laugh nervously. She kept her eyes trained on Lapis’s mouth, which pulled up into a grin.

“You okay?” Lapis whispered to her.

Peridot’s heart was close to erupting. Another anxious chuckle, and then she responded with a simple, “Yeah.”

She was just conscious enough to notice that Lapis had led her to the bed at the far end of the room. Lapis leaned down to kiss her once more before pulling back again, using the opportunity to sit herself at the edge of the mattress. She released her hold on Peridot’s neck and hair to push herself up the length of it.

Peridot, still standing, took a moment to watch Lapis settle into a sitting position, legs stretched out in front of her. Lapis’s still-wet hair was mussed, her face pink, and her lips slightly swollen. But it was her eyes that caught Peridot’s attention most—heavily lidded, yet alert.

She was beautiful, and she was giving off a “come hither” look straight out of Peridot’s innermost fantasies.

The fantasy, unfortunately, was shattered just as Peridot placed a knee on the mattress so as to follow. That was when Peridot noticed Jasper’s cargo jacket, laying crumpled on the bed so closely behind Lapis that its sleeve nearly touched her hand.

Peridot took her knee off the bed immediately, and planted herself standing above Lapis. She couldn’t take her eyes off that godforsaken jacket. As Lapis’s face morphed into an expression of mixed confusion and concern, Peridot brought her hand up to rest against her forehead. It did nothing to calm her.

“Jasper,” is all that she could force out.

Whatever spell they’d been under was effectively broken at the sound of Jasper’s name. Suddenly it wasn’t Peridot and Lapis alone in the world with zero consequences anymore, as Peridot had momentarily fooled herself into thinking. Instead, it was Peridot and Lapis who had just done something seriously, _seriously_ wrong.

Lapis visibly deflated. Following Peridot’s eyesight, Lapis seemed to discover the jacket that was laying just behind her, staring at it as if she’d never seen it before in her life. “Oh,” she muttered, picking up the sleeve of the jacket to twist it between her fingers.

Peridot felt as if her stomach had been ripped out of her body. “Yeah,” she sighed, bringing her hand down to cross it over her abdomen.

She watched as Lapis examined the offending article of clothing, and then she watched some more as Lapis dropped the sleeve to (rather unceremoniously) push the jacket off the side of the bed. Without a word, Lapis turned to face forward, looking up at Peridot with an unreadable expression.

Though the world had begun to spin around her (not unlike the sensation she’d felt the night before), Peridot was able to keep Lapis’s face in focus. With every ounce of strength left in her, she said, “We can’t.”

Lapis responded instantly. “Why not?”

“Why _not?_ ” Peridot couldn’t keep herself from scoffing. “All right. Huh. Well. Let’s see—”

“ _No_ , I—” Lapis took a deep, shaking breath as she brought her hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose.

Peridot was beginning to hyperventilate. She tore her hands through her hair, hoping that the slight amount of pain would be enough to keep her grounded to reality. She couldn’t afford to panic and pass out again, not right now.

Lapis continued to stutter, “I get _why_. It’s just—I don’t—”

“ _What?_ ” Peridot finally cried out, feeling her face become hotter with every word she spoke. “‘You don’t’ _what?_ What on _earth_ would be a sufficient enough explanation to justify—” She gesticulated wildly in front of herself. “— _this?_ ”

“Jasper and I—”

“Are _dating_. You two are _together_. Jasper and _I_ , meanwhile, are friends. _Best_ friends. So, _you_ and _I_ , we can’t just—”

“I don’t _want_ Jasper. I want _you_.”

Silence hung in the air then. It was broken only by the creaking of Lapis’s bed, as its occupant scooched forward to prop herself on her knees at the edge of the mattress. Lapis was within hazardous proximity to Peridot again. Peridot _would_ have taken a step away, had she not been battling a combination of panic and shock.

But she was, so she didn’t.

It was all Peridot could do to whisper, “What?”

Lapis stared determinately up at her, face set into a severe expression. “Jasper and I can’t work. We’re just—” She shrugged. “—too different.”

Peridot, whose throat had abruptly congealed, swallowed hard. “But—but—what happened?”

Lapis’s eyebrows bunched together. “What do you mean, ‘What happened?’”

“Well, _what happened?_ ” Peridot began shifting from foot to foot, trying to focus on the rhythmic, pulsing pressure at the bottom of her knees. “That—that didn’t seem to _matter_ before. You and—and—and _her_ seem to be just _fine_ until—well, until _what?_ ”

There was no time between Peridot’s question and Lapis’s response. “Until _you._ ”

The silence—save for the continued barrage of rain against the rooftop—was thick. Peridot’s pacing halted immediately. Internally, she battled with a mixed assault of emotions. The first was the terrible, _terrible_ guilt that weighed on her chest (which blew whatever guilt she’d been feeling earlier in the day _completely_ out of the water). But second and most undeniable was the lightness inside of her that made the pressure on her chest feel suddenly manageable.

Externally, she imagined that she looked dumbstruck. And Lapis was still staring up at her, eyes wide and searching. So Peridot cleared her throat before opening her mouth to speak.

But Lapis beat her to the punch. She reached out to hook her finger around Peridot’s bracelet as she whispered, “Can we talk about this later?”

Peridot knew she should’ve stepped away when she had the chance. Instead, she allowed Lapis to pull her in, leading her by the bracelet as if it was a leash. Still, she had _some_ of her composure left. “Lapis,” she said quietly, “I still don’t think—”

Lapis shushed her then, keeping her one hand entwined around Peridot’s bracelet while bringing her other hand up to grab at Peridot’s chin. “I know. But could we maybe just forget about everything else for a little bit?”

In the back of her mind, Peridot was aware that the _correct_ response would be for her to say, “No,” push Lapis’s hands away, and leave.

But this seemed to be a day of making unconscionable decisions.

“Do you—” Peridot’s throat still felt too thick to speak properly. She tried swallowing again before she continued, “Do you really feel like _that_? About _me?_ ”

Lapis smiled, moving her hand from Peridot’s chin to caress up her jaw. “I do.”

And at once, everything—all the guilt and the bad feelings and the idea that they were hurting anyone—was forgotten. Peridot shoved it all away, resigning herself to deal with them later. For now, all she felt was that familiar bag of bricks collide with her chest; only this time, on impact, it didn’t seem to hurt so much.

Something seemed to dawn on Lapis then, too. Only her face morphed into an expression of utmost trepidation. “You—” She withdrew her hand from Peridot’s face, leaving it to hang midway between them. “Do you feel that way? About _me_?”

Peridot was surprised by the idea that anyone—literally _anyone_ — _couldn’t_ feel “that way” about Lapis. How could they _not?_ With her eyes and her lips and her personality and her laugh and her overall presence? No. The thought that, in some alternate and inconceivable universe, someone could know Lapis and _not_ instantly fall for her was laughable.

So Peridot laughed—not a mean laugh, but rather a simply amused one. But her reaction caused Lapis to withdraw her hand further towards her chest. She immediately wanted to kick herself, or to say something to relay to Lapis _why_ she’d laughed.

But, instead, Peridot decided that the best course of action was to lean forward and press her lips to Lapis’s, in the hopes that the action would say more than was possible for words. So, she did just that.

Lapis froze for only a moment before sighing and entwining her arms around Peridot’s neck. Peridot, meanwhile, planted her hands on either side of Lapis’s hips as she kissed her.

Her hands didn’t remain there for long, though, as Lapis unwrapped one of her arms to use as leverage in order to scoot herself back up the bed. This time, Peridot followed obediently, crawling on her hands and knees up the length of the mattress.

Peridot held herself up with her hands and knees to hover over Lapis, who propped herself on both elbows to reach Peridot’s lips with her own. But, almost as soon as they settled into this position, Lapis pulled away. Peridot paused, opening her eyes hesitantly—for fear that the other girl had changed her mind—to examine Lapis’s face.

Lapis didn’t look apprehensive, or scared. Rather, she looked pensive. She searched Peridot’s eyes for a while before her gaze drifted elsewhere, a small smile spreading across her features as she lifted a hand to brush back a wet strand of Peridot’s hair.

Peridot’s heart, meanwhile, grew three sizes at the action.

There were a lot of things that Peridot wanted to say just then. How stunningly, magnificently, unbelievably gorgeous Lapis was, for example. Or how grateful Peridot was to have met her at all.

But, being Peridot and nearly zero romantic confidence, all she managed to utter was a nervous, “Hey.”

Lapis’s face split into a wide grin. “Hey,” she replied with a laugh, leaning up again to press her forehead against Peridot’s.

“So—uh.” Peridot closed her eyes and pushed her head into Lapis’s. “What are you thinking?”

When Lapis didn’t respond at once, Peridot squeezed her eyes more tightly shut. She still had a residual fear that Lapis would pull away from her at any moment—because (among other factors) Lapis was _Lapis_ , and Peridot was just Peridot.

But then Peridot heard Lapis chuckle, low and deep in her chest. As Lapis’s forehead peeled away from her own, Peridot finally opened her eyes to watch Lapis lay back down on the mattress. Her eyes held that narrowed, dark, dangerously soft expression once more, and her hands raised to stroke up Peridot’s sides. Peridot couldn’t suppress a shiver, despite how stuffy and warm the cabin suddenly felt.

“I’m thinking,” whispered Lapis, as she toyed with the hem of Peridot’s t-shirt, “that you’re wet.”

Peridot’s brain collapsed in on itself.

“Your clothes, I mean,” Lapis added with a wink.

The addition did nothing to help. Peridot’s brain was officially fried, so all she could do in response was splutter out, “Oh—ha, I—um—I thought—I’m—”

Lapis laughed, then—outside of Peridot’s power of comprehension—somehow managed to flip the two of them so that Lapis now hovered above Peridot. Peridot was internally grateful for this. After what Lapis had just said, she was relieved that she was no longer responsible for holding herself up.

Then Lapis descended on her, pressing her lips firmly to the base of her throat. Peridot momentarily forgot how to breathe. As kiss after kiss peppered her neck, her jaw, her collarbones, Peridot’s breath hitched in her throat. When the breath finally escaped, it came out as a slight moan. Immediately, Peridot bit her lip, praying to whoever might be listening that Lapis hadn’t heard her.

That prayer went unanswered. But seeing as how Lapis replied to Peridot’s indiscretion by releasing a moan in return and nipping at the skin under Peridot’s earlobe, it was worth it.

Meanwhile, Lapis’s hands snaked under Peridot’s shirt. For now, they remained respectfully at her sides, brushing up and down her skin between the bottom of her sports bra and the top of her shorts. Peridot still squirmed under her hands though, with every inch of her skin pricking in the most ineffably pleasant way at Lapis’s searing touch.

 _Stars_ , Peridot needed a distraction before she could embarrass herself again. She didn’t dare explore Lapis’s skin with her own hands for fear of coming undone completely. So she settled for bringing her hands up to tangle them in Lapis’s hair. Peridot couldn’t _believe_ how soft it felt—even wet—and she could smell that half-floral, half-tropical scent that she recognized from the night before. Her fingertips found the part of Lapis’s hair that was shaved down and ran her fingertips through it. She could feel Lapis’s sigh just under her chin, where the other girl’s lips were currently planted.

Just then, Lapis pulled away once more—this time stopping short so that her lips floated just above Peridot’s. It took everything in Peridot’s willpower not to lean up and take Lapis’s bottom lip between her own teeth. But then she noticed Lapis’s hands grasping at the bottom of her t-shirt, and Lapis’s searching gaze.

“Can I?” Lapis asked quietly, lifting the hem of Peridot’s shirt up a bit.

Peridot nodded, then swallowed. “Yeah.”

They repositioned so that Peridot was sitting with Lapis straddling her thighs. And then Peridot lifted her arms so that Lapis could pull her shirt over her head. Lapis quickly discarded the shirt over the side of the mattress, and leaned down to kiss Peridot’s chest just above the top of her sports bra.

This was already the furthest Peridot had ever gone as far as sexual experience went. For this reason, Peridot would’ve expected herself to shrink away or hyperventilate or any other number of things that would ruin the moment. After all, she was more exposed then than she’d _ever_ been in front of another person. But when Lapis hooked her fingers under the elastic of the bra and pressed her mouth to Peridot’s ear to moan, “And this?” Peridot, without any hesitation, nodded and lifted her arms once more.

The sports bra joined the shirt on the floor, and Lapis pressed a finger to Peridot’s clavicle to push her to lie down. Peridot’s hands automatically went to Lapis’s thighs as Lapis bent down to dust her lips across Peridot’s bare chest. As soon as teeth and tongue grazed one of Peridot’s nipples, she was forced to dig her nails into Lapis’s legs to keep from bucking her hips upward.

Heat pooled at the bottom of Peridot’s stomach as Lapis continued flicking her tongue and pursing her lips in ways that were tortuously, almost painfully pleasurable. Peridot was so distracted by trying to keep her hips in place and to keep herself from crying out—neither of which was working, by the way—that she wasn’t fully aware when Lapis began crawling down Peridot’s abdomen, dragging her teeth across Peridot’s skin as she went. That is, until Lapis dipped a lick so low that it traveled beneath the waist of Peridot’s shorts.

Peridot could’ve blacked out. But she didn’t have time to before Lapis pulled away once more. This time, Lapis slid off the foot of the bed and, while standing, wrapped her arms around Peridot’s midriff to drag her to a sitting position at the edge of the mattress. Lapis then leaned down to kiss Peridot full on the mouth again.

Part of her mind—the part that wasn’t occupied with the taste of Lapis’s tongue and the melting sensation that her insides were experiencing—yearned to analyze whether this all was too fast paced for her, especially considering the extenuating circumstances. Part of Peridot’s body, however—the part that, at that moment, was absolutely _throbbing_ —was yelling at her mind to kindly shut the fuck up.

But when Lapis reached between them to toy with the button of Peridot’s shorts, her mind temporarily won out.

“W-wait,” Peridot spluttered, dropping her hands to rest on top of Lapis’s.

Lapis’s hands obediently stopped. She pulled back to smirk at Peridot. “Yeah?” she sighed, her voice just quiet enough to rasp a bit.

It was, hands down, the sexiest thing Peridot had ever experienced. But, over her body’s protests, her mind pressed on—albeit, a bit fragmentally. “Ha, uh—Sorry, it’s just—I’ve never—”

Realization seemed to dawn on Lapis quickly, if the perturbed look that crossed her features was any indication. Lapis withdrew her hands to place them over her mouth as she said, “Oh, Peridot, I’m _sorry._ I forgot. You’re—”

“Woefully inexperienced,” Peridot supplied. “Yeah.” She resisted the urge to cross her arms over her naked chest.

“Okay.” Lapis dropped her hands to rest them on her hips. “Okay. So. Maybe not.”

Peridot’s reply was immediate, her bodily desire effectively taking over. “ _No._ ” She reached forward to place her hands on top of Lapis’s. “ _No_ , I want to.”

“We don’t have to—”

“I know that. I _want_ to. If you do, I mean.”

Lapis’s face relaxed into a smile. “I want to, too.”

Peridot’s mind was still eager to point out everything that could go wrong. But then, at Lapis’s words and show of concern, Peridot’s heart leapt forward. She figured that, if Peridot were to do this with anyone, it should be with someone like Lapis. No, not _like_ Lapis—it should most decidedly _be_ Lapis. Honestly, who else? Peridot’s body seconded this idea.

Two against one; her mind was outvoted. So Peridot removed her hands from Lapis’s to plant them on the bed. Properly braced, she said, “All right then. Slowly.”

Lapis’s smile deepened. She leaned forward to place her hands on Peridot’s shoulders to kiss her.

Peridot returned the gesture emphatically, bringing her own hands up once more to rest on Lapis’s hips as she kissed her.

And as if the scraping of lips and tongues and teeth weren’t already enough, Lapis dropped her hands to rest on Peridot’s as she pulled away to whisper, “Would it help at all if I was undressed, too?”

Mouth suddenly very, _very_ dry, it was all Peridot could do to nod once. She watched helplessly as Lapis stepped back with a wink to pull her own shirt up over her head, allowing it to fall to the ground with an undignified _splat_. Lapis’s bra was revealed, lacey and nearly see-through and so impractical but, at the same time, _so_ Lapis. Peridot barely had a moment to recover from the overall image of the bra and Lapis’s stomach and shoulders before Lapis reached behind herself. She unclasped the bra, and it fell to the floor on top of the shirt.

“ _Holy smokes_ ,” muttered Peridot in complete reverence.

Lapis giggled as she placed her hands on the button of her shorts. She fumbled with it for only a moment before she slid them down her legs. Once she’d stepped out of them completely, she moved forward to stand in front of Peridot again. “There,” Lapis whispered. “We’re more than even now.”

Peridot’s brain was short-circuiting and, as such, she had no idea where she was supposed to look first. There were, obviously, Lapis’s breasts—notably smaller than Peridot’s own but worthy of a sonnet still. Then there were Lapis’s stomach muscles. Those cut a “V” shape between her hips and dove beneath the band of her lacy underwear, which matched the now-discarded bra. Then there were her thighs and her arms and her clavicle and, _oh stars_ , her _eyes_.

Those eyes—which now bore severely into Peridot’s own—narrowed as Lapis smirked. “You good?”

Peridot somehow managed to nod once more. And then, tentatively, she raised her hands to steady them on Lapis’s ribcage.

In response, Lapis instantly dove forward to connect her mouth to Peridot’s again. This time, when Peridot felt hands groping to unbutton her shorts, she didn’t push them away. (As if the growing heat deep within her pelvis would allow her to do something so foolish anyway.) She dug her fingernails into Lapis’s skin instead.

Lapis’s fingers soon succeeded in loosening Peridot’s pants. As she began to pull them off, Lapis’s hands grazed Peridot’s hips, and then her thighs. A ghost of her touch remained burning on Peridot’s skin as she moved downward.

This was heaven. A more intimate, slightly awkward, terrifying heaven than Peridot had ever realized, but heaven all the same.

But, despite being lost in the experience and the overall impression of Lapis for a while, Peridot was still Peridot. And she should’ve known it was all too good to last.

Peridot’s shorts got caught at her knees. And her heart suddenly sunk to the bottom of her chest.

Lapis was laughing into their kiss. “Help me out, huh?”

“Oh.” Peridot pulled away. Her face felt hot—but not in a pleasant way. “Uh—”

“Here,” Lapis said, dropping to her knees in front of Peridot and reaching her hands towards the knob on Peridot’s right prosthesis. “Let’s just take them off. Talk me through—”

“ _No_.” Peridot grabbed Lapis’s hands, holding them aloft and away from her legs.

The smile fell from Lapis’s face immediately. “What’s wrong?”

Anything that Peridot might have wanted to say died away.

Lapis wrenched her hands away to place them on Peridot’s hips. “Per, talk to me.”

Peridot gulped. “I just—” She swallowed again over the lump forming in her throat. “I just kind of like pretending I’m normal.”

“You _are_ normal.”

A scoff escaped Peridot’s mouth. “Yeah, _right._ ”

Lapis’s eyebrows bunched together. She almost looked _mad_. “These,” she said, bobbing her head downward to indicate Peridot’s legs, “don’t mean you’re not normal.”

Peridot couldn’t help rolling her eyes. “Oh, maybe. It just means that I’m repulsive. Sorry that I don’t want to subject you to that.”

“ _Stop that._ ” Lapis’s face, which had been screwed up in frustration, softened a little. “Literally, how could I ever find you repulsive?”

Peridot bit her lip. Her heart was hammering—either out of frustration, fear, or both—as she pitched forward to unlatch one leg and shove it to the ground. She repeated the movement on the other leg—her shorts now falling away with it. After the clatter settled, Peridot leaned back on her hands, staring up at the ceiling. _Like that_ , she wanted to say. _You could find me repulsive like that._

There was a pause, and then Lapis’s hands left her hips.

She _knew_ it. Peridot _knew_ that she was right, that she was malformed and incomplete and that, at the end of the day, nothing in the world could distract someone from that. She’d been aware of that for basically her entire life. Maybe it was all for the better, that this _thing_ with Lapis stopped before they made an even worse mistake than they already had. But still. Peridot wasn’t much of a crier, but the absence of Lapis’s hands on her hips was enough to make her _want_ to cry.

But then she felt Lapis’s hands on her once more. This time, they were holding the bottom of her right leg, right where the shin suddenly cut off.

Peridot snapped her head down to stare incredulously at Lapis, who was too busy examining what she was holding to notice. Then Lapis leaned forward to plant a delicate kiss on the base of Peridot’s leg.

Okay, _now_ Peridot wanted to cry.

But there was no time for that, seeing as how Lapis had moved to repeat the gesture on Peridot’s other leg, and was now dragging her lips slowly up Peridot’s knee.

Lapis glanced up just then and, upon meeting Peridot’s eyes, smiled into the skin of her thigh. She kissed there once before she muttered, “Don’t get sappy on me, Per.”

Peridot couldn’t help grinning at her. She picked up her hand to brush it through Lapis’s hair. “Who, me?” she whispered. “That doesn’t sound like me.”

Lapis smirked, and it looked for a moment as if she was going to make a joke. But, instead, she lurched suddenly forward to press her lips against Peridot—right over her boxers and directly between her legs.

Maybe Peridot’s earlier sentiment was right, maybe it all _was_ too good to last.

Regardless, she allowed herself to get lost in the moment and in Lapis once more, determined to milk the experience for all it was worth before it blew up in her face.

\---

“What was your first impression of me? That first night?”

Lapis’s arm was thrown across Peridot’s chest, which vibrated with Peridot’s chuckle. “I thought my first impression of you was pretty clear.”

“No,” Lapis scolded through a smile as she toyed with the ends of Peridot’s hair. “ _Before_ the shower incident, I mean. What did you think of me?”

Peridot sighed. She adjusted her head on the pillow before saying, “I don’t _know._ ” She paused, and then decided to press on. “You were like something out of a movie.”

Lapis beamed at her. “What?”

“Yeah. Like, _literally_ , I turned to—” Peridot stopped herself from saying Jasper’s name out loud. She didn’t want to break the spell before it was absolutely necessary. “—you know. Before I realized who you were, I turned to her and told her to check out the ‘manic pixie dream girl.’”

Lapis obviously realized to whom Peridot was referring. But she played along with the trying-not-to-mention-her-too-much thing. “You’re such a dweeb,” she muttered before turning to press a kiss against Peridot’s clavicle.

They adjusted so that they faced each other on the mattress, legs intertwined. Peridot stroked her finger down the skin between Lapis’s breasts. “Yeah, well.” She couldn’t help the grin that was crawling across her face. “What was your first impression of me, then?”

Lapis’s eyes drifted closed as she sighed, “I thought you were cute.”

“You did not.”

“Yes, I did.” Lapis nodded, keeping her eyes shut. “Standoffishness suited you. It was cute.” She smirked. “And then I almost got to see you naked that night, so the deal was pretty much sealed.”

They were quiet then for a little bit. The rain had long since stopped, so Peridot listened to the twittering of birds outside the window.

She watched Lapis’s face for a while, admiring the slope of her nose and the cupid’s bow of her lips. She counted Lapis’s freckles. Peridot was nearly certain—after counting to sixty-eight—that Lapis had fallen asleep.

But she asked the question that was on her mind anyway. “When did you know?”

Lapis’s eyes opened slowly. Apparently, she didn’t have to ask to understand Peridot’s question. “Last night.”

“When _exactly_ last night?”

Lapis’s eyes closed again as she smiled. “When you kissed me.”

“Wow,” Peridot chortled. “Quick turnaround.”

“I mean—” Lapis flipped to lay on her back. Her hand, meanwhile, came up to rest against Peridot’s cheek. “—I think I’ve _felt_ it for a while. But it creeped up on me. So I didn’t _know_ -know until you were kissing me and my first thought was, like, ‘ _Finally._ ’”

Peridot felt a comfortable warmth spread from her stomach. In lieu of responding, she reached up to brush a strand of blue hair away from Lapis’s face.

Lapis moved to grab Peridot’s wrist, holding it in place to smooch. “You?”

“I knew the night that I dragged you to the art room. You know.” Once again, Peridot avoided mentioning Jasper’s name. “After Beach Day.”

“Aw,” Lapis sighed. “You’ve been _pining_. I should’ve known that was why you were acting weird.”

Peridot would’ve blushed. But she was already naked and twisted around Lapis—who was also naked. So she figured there wasn’t a lot left to blush about. Instead, she said, “We’re at camp. We should’ve figured pining would be involved.”

Lapis laughed then. “You’ve taken being a _Camp Pining Hearts_ fangirl to a new level. Paulette would sure be proud of you.” She plucked at the bracelet on Peridot’s wrist.

It was warm in the cabin. It was nice.

\---

Peridot woke to something brushing against the shell of her ear. When she heard whispering, she realized that it was Lapis’s lips.

“Per.” Lapis was also sweeping her fingers up and down Peridot’s side. “It’s time to get up.”

Peridot groaned out what she hoped would be understood as a “no.” She then burrowed her face further into the pillow that she was clutching.

She could hear Lapis’s soft laugh. “Come on, it’s almost completely dark outside.” Then, after a short pause, “They’ll be back soon.”

Another groan, and Peridot flipped herself to look blearily up at Lapis. The other girl was right; the cabin was already heavily shadowed. But she could still see Lapis’s face, which made the edges of Peridot’s lips twitch up into a smile. “Hey,” she said.

Lapis grinned at her in return. “Hey.” She leaned down to kiss Peridot once. When she pulled away, Peridot noticed an abnormally dark shadow just under Lapis’s jaw.

Peridot’s heart nearly clawed its way up and out of her throat. “Oh, _no._ ”

Noticing the apparently horrified look on Peridot’s face, Lapis’s eyes went wide. “ _What?_ What’s wrong?”

Reaching up to press her fingers against the skin there, Peridot hissed, “ _Hickey._ I left a _hickey._ ”

Peridot watched the anxiety melt away from Lapis’s face. With a laugh, Lapis sat up. “Oh _god_ , Per. Don’t _scare_ me like that.”

“Uh, we _should_ be scared,” Peridot insisted, now moving to sit up as well. She pointed at the bruise. “That’s evidence of a _crime scene._ ”

“Kinky,” Lapis chuckled. As soon as Peridot opened her mouth to speak again, Lapis cut in. “ _Relax._ They’re all going to assume I got it from Jasper—including Jasper. No one’s going to think it was you.”

Lapis had a point, and that should’ve been enough to calm Peridot down. But, unfortunately, a rule had just been broken. Lapis had said Jasper’s name out loud and, as soon as she had, everything was over.

Lapis seemed to realize that too, based on the newly deflated expression that crossed her features. With a sad sigh, she muttered, “We should get dressed.”

Peridot nodded. Lapis got off the bed, stooping to pick up discarded articles of clothing as Peridot reached down to pick her glasses up from where’d she previously placed them on the ground.

“Here,” Lapis said, tossing Peridot’s boxers and shorts next to her on the bed. “And—uh—have you seen—”

“Here.” Peridot grabbed Lapis’s underwear from the floor, just next to where her glasses had been. She handed them over.

Even in the darkness that deepened with every passing minute, Peridot could see a blush spread across Lapis’s cheeks. “Thank you.”

They dressed in silence. Peridot couldn’t help noting a new shyness as she slid her clothes back on in reverse order—boxers, then shorts, then bra, then t-shirt. It didn’t make sense. Lapis had already been (quite intimately) introduced to Peridot’s body, so why did she feel like she had to hide it now?

Once she’d fastened her prostheses back on, Peridot stood shakily. Then she waited as she watched Lapis comb her fingers through her hair. Then Lapis turned to face her. “Temple?” Lapis asked.

“Sure.”

The silence wasn’t broken again before they’d walked all the way to the Temple, swiped some ice cream bars out of the freezer, and settled themselves on the front steps. As soon as Peridot had taken a big bite, she screwed her face up in disgust. “These are terrible.”

“They are,” Lapis conceded as she nibbled her own. “But Cookie Cats were discontinued, so what can you do?”

After forcing her way through half of the ice cream, Peridot finally admitted defeat and rewrapped it to set it on the wood next to her. She then folded her arms over her knees to lean her head against them. It was completely dark outside by now, the only source of light being that which streamed through the windows from inside the Temple. Not even the moon, which was a crescent sliver in the sky, lent much help.

Peridot began to stare at the camp entrance as anxiety mounted within her. The whole camp would be back any second. Most importantly, _Jasper_ would be back any second.

“So what do we do?” Peridot sighed, keeping her gaze on the dirt path beyond—from where the buses would soon be arriving.

Next to her, she heard Lapis wrapping up the remains of her own ice cream. Then she heard a great sigh. “Peridot. Look at me.”

Something about the tone of Lapis’s voice made Peridot not want to face her. But she did anyway. When she saw the somber look on Lapis’s face, Peridot wished she hadn’t. “What?”

Lapis shook her head. “We’re not going to do anything. We’re not going to tell anyone. We can’t.” After an extra moment Lapis looked away. “And we—we can’t do _that_ again either.”

There was that bag-of-bricks sensation that Peridot had come to associate with Lapis. Only this time when they collided with her chest, the bricks were all covered in spikes, and they were ice cold. Peridot couldn’t keep herself from scoffing, couldn’t keep the venom out of her voice as she said, “Wow. I knew it was my first time and everything, but I hadn’t thought I performed _that_ poorly.”

“ _Peridot_ ,” Lapis scolded, wheeling around to look at her head-on again. “Stop it. It’s not like that and you know it.”

“Then enlighten me!” Peridot felt her face heating up, despite the chill in the night air. “What _exactly_ is it?”

“It’s _Jasper._ It’s—”

“That’s _funny_.” Peridot stood up, walking down the porch steps and turning to stand across from where Lapis sat. “Because you didn’t seem to care about Jasper a couple of hours ago.”

“That’s not fair,” said Lapis, so quiet that it was almost a whisper.

“Yeah, well, this whole thing’s not fair.” Peridot hadn’t realized that she’d begun pacing. She stopped, planting her feet and taking a deep breath. “So, all that stuff you said earlier. About—” She swallowed hard. “—wanting _me._ That was all—”

“No, that was _true._ ”

Peridot scoffed again. “ _Was_ it?”

In one swift movement, Lapis stood and descended the steps. She began to reach out like she was going to touch Peridot, but then she stopped. Her hand hung midair for a second before she dropped it back down to her side.

Peridot hated herself for being disappointed that Lapis hadn’t touched her.

Lapis crossed her arms over her chest. Her voice sounded strained as she said, “It was. You have to believe me. That was all true. I _do_ want you. And—what we just did—” She turned her face up at the sky, and blinked at it. “It was incredible. But what else are we supposed to do? I’m supposed to break up with Jasper while we’re still here at camp? And then, what, we start dating immediately?  We have another month and a half left here. Come _on,_ Per, you care about Jasper, too. That’s cruel. We can’t do that to her.”

Peridot knew that Lapis was right. She let out a shaky sigh. “I know. I do care about her. It’s just—after—” She gulped before she found the strength to continue. “What about us?”

“We wait.”

“We—”

But Peridot was interrupted by the rumbling of engines, and the shifting of gravel. At the same time, both girls swung their heads around to watch two buses drive into the campgrounds, shriek to a stop, and open their doors.

As campers began to spill out, Peridot looked helplessly at Lapis once more.

Lapis looked back at her and muttered, “Later. I promise. We’ll talk.” And then Peridot watched as Lapis looked back at the buses with a huge (and probably fake) smile plastered on her face.

Steven and Connie were the first to reach them. Steven barreled into Lapis’s stomach, giving her a tight hug. “We missed you today! It wasn’t the same without our Beach Summer Fun Buddy!” Lapis laughed (which sounded more genuine than her smile looked) and leaned down to pull him and Connie into her arms.

Peridot was so distracted that she didn’t notice Amethyst come up beside her until the latter elbowed her in the rib cage. “So,” she crooned, just quiet enough so that only Peridot could hear her. “Fill me in, home girl.” Amethyst waggled her eyebrows. “How was your day— _alone with_ _L_?”

 _If only you knew_ , Peridot thought. Out loud, she forced a laugh that she hoped sounded less panicked than she felt. “Oh, well—”

But then Peridot stopped, unable to continue because her throat had closed in on itself. Because she’d just watched Jenny step off one of the buses, followed by Buck, then Sour Cream, and then—finally—Jasper. Jasper, immediately finding Peridot’s eyes in the crowd, grinned and stepped forward to greet her.

“Hey, Per!” she bellowed over the hubbub of campers running around. She swung her arm around to clap Peridot on the shoulder. “Feeling better?”

Peridot cleared her throat. “Yeah, I—”

“Thanks for watching my girl for me,” Jasper cut in with a wink. “You able to keep her out of trouble for once?”

Peridot was _sure_ —surer than she’d ever been in her life—that she was about to get a nose bleed. She struggled to say something in response, but was completely lost for words.

Thankfully, Jasper didn’t notice. Instead, she reached forward to grab Lapis by the hand, pulling her away from the others and into her side. “Hey,” Jasper purred.

Lapis smirked, and then twisted herself around in Jasper’s arms to throw her hands around her neck. Hands that, until recently, had been touching Peridot. “Hey,” she returned.

And then Jasper leaned forward to press their mouths together.

This was going to be a long summer.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peridot struggles with the immediate aftermath of her and Lapis's indiscretion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your patience concerning the long wait between chapters. And special thanks to silvereyedrukia and emma-swoon from Tumblr, both of whom were gracious enough to volunteer as beta-editors for the first half of this chapter--just when I needed validation most.

The earth’s rotation seemed to grind to a halt as soon as Jasper’s lips touched Lapis’s. But what was even more jarring to Peridot was the fact that no one else seemed to realize this phenomenon. The campers, pumping with leftover energy from Beach Day, bustled around and chatted animatedly. Some of them roughly brushed past her, but Peridot remained where she stood, dumbstruck.

Until that moment, in the back of her mind, Peridot had expected that the sight of Jasper and Lapis kissing would cause a new surge of guilt to hit her. The most extreme kind of guilt. The kind of guilt that would have squeezed her heart like a tube of toothpaste until it popped, for example. Jasper was her _best friend_ , after all, and Lapis remained her best friend’s girlfriend. But what ended up hitting Peridot wasn’t anything akin to guilt. Instead, it was a most painful mixture of fury and devastation.

Fury, for one, because how _dare_ Jasper believe that she had the right to put her hands on Lapis’s waist, where Peridot’s hands had only just been an hour ago. And how _dare_ Jasper have the audacity to kiss Lapis like that, to smile into it, to allow herself to get lost in it. A searing burn spiked up Peridot’s neck and face, and she could feel her hand clench into a fist as if she was preparing to strike Jasper.

But then there was the devastation of watching Lapis return the kiss. While Lapis’s feet raised onto their tiptoes to allow better access, her hands tangled in Jasper’s wild hair. Watching it made Peridot feel like she’d just received an icy punch to the gut.

The mixing burn and chill somehow neutralized inside of Peridot, causing her fist to slacken. She now felt kind of numb, but mostly—over everything else—she was tired.

Thankfully, sneaking away was simple. Peridot spun on her foot, weaved her way through the wriggling crowd, and climbed up the steps to Pink Cabin. Once inside, she released a quavering breath. Her bed was calling to her. As she slouched towards it, the only thought that occupied Peridot’s mind was that she was grateful to be away from everyone, alone.

Being alone, however, didn’t last long. Just as soon as she’d collapsed onto her bed and moved to take off her prostheses, Peridot heard the door creak open. It was quickly closed once more with a soft _click_. When Peridot didn’t hear the newcomer move forward, she reluctantly looked up.

It was Amethyst. She was standing with her hip cocked and her arms crossed over her chest. Her eyes were narrowed at Peridot, but they didn’t look mean. Merely suspicious, or maybe concerned.

After a second of tense silence had passed, Peridot sighed and looked back down at the knobs on her leg. “ _What?_ ” she snapped.

“You tell me,” Amethyst responded. Peridot was no longer watching her, but she heard Amethyst step toward her. Another moment, and then Amethyst settled herself across from Peridot at the end of her mattress. “What’s up with you?”

“ _Nothing,_ ” Peridot snapped again, keeping her eyes trained on unfastening her legs and propping them ever-so-precisely against the frame of her bunk.

Amethyst scoffed. “Yeah, Peri, I _totally_ believe that. Especially considering how you just zoned out in the middle of talking to me and then stormed off.”

Peridot didn’t say anything back. She focused instead on picking up her legs and resetting them again. She didn’t want them to fall in the middle of the night, but she also wanted easy access in case of emergency—there was an exact science to it that required her full attention. At least, that’s what she was insisting to herself.

But then Amethyst leaned forward. The action worked to get Peridot’s attention. Amethyst’s eyes, which were peeking out at her from under her bangs, were no longer narrowed. Now they just held open concern. Amethyst dropped her voice to whisper, “Come on, Peri. You can tell me.” A beat of silence, and then, “Did something happen between you and L today?”

Peridot’s stomach plummeted. If she hadn’t already removed her legs, she would have stood and walked off. Instead, she tore her eyes away from Amethyst’s. She bent to reach under her bed, and then came back up holding her gaming system. She turned it on. “No,” Peridot replied, staring determinately at the screen as the device warmed up. She tried not to dwell on the fact that, even though the reply was only a single syllable, it still hurt her to say.

“ _Dang_ ,” Amethyst breathed out. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’” Peridot felt the mattress shift as Amethyst scooched closer. “What _happened?_ ”

Peridot bit down on her lip and kept her eyes on her game. She selected an old file, the one that she hadn’t touched basically since camp started. “ _Nothing,_ ” she said.

“Whatever it was, it wasn’t _nothing._ ” When Peridot didn’t say anything, Amethyst groaned. “ _Peridot,_ come _on_ , just _tell_ me.”

“Drop it,” Peridot muttered, jabbing her thumb particularly violently on a button to move her character forward. Almost immediately, an alien killed her and she was forced to start again.

Just then, Amethyst pulled Peridot’s game out of her hands.

Peridot rounded on her. “ _What’s your problem?_ ” she seethed, flailing forward to try to snatch the game back.

Amethyst held it just out of reach. Her eyes narrowed once more as she said, “What’s _yours_ , huh? Why won’t you talk to me about what’s wrong?”

“ _Because there’s nothing wrong!_ ” Peridot felt her chest constrict. She dropped her arms from trying to steal back the game to cross them in front of herself. “What do _you_ care anyway?”

“Because I’m your _friend_ , Peridot. And you’re freaking me out right now!”

Peridot’s eyes stung, so she made herself look away. More than anything else in the world right now, Peridot just wanted to be left alone. And she felt a hot anger coursing through her that Amethyst wouldn’t let her have that one little thing. So she spat out, “We’re not friends. I’m your counselor. Grow up.”

She couldn’t make herself look back at Amethyst, for which she was thankful when she heard the other girl mumble an icy, “Fine. My bad, then.” Peridot felt the mattress shift once more as Amethyst rose, dropping the gaming system where she’d just been sitting. Then she heard Amethyst’s footsteps shuffle away.

Just as soon as Peridot finally allowed herself to look up, examining the back of Amethyst’s head as she climb onto her own top bunk, the door burst open. The rest of the Pink Campers piled in, talking excitedly.

“Hi, Peridot!” Steven called from where he stood at the door, waving his arm to get her attention and smiling wide. “How are you? You feeling better?”

Peridot studied him for a moment, not quite able to comprehend what he’d just asked her enough for her to formulate a response. So she just shook her head once and then laid back down on her pillow, her game forgotten at the foot of her bed.

\---

Peridot considered skipping breakfast the next morning. It would have been easy enough, after all, to convince the campers and Pearl and whoever else would notice that she was still sick. That her body hadn’t quite flushed her bug from the day before out of her system yet. It seemed convenient, she mused as she stared up at the slats of the bed above her, until Peridot remembered that there were a couple people who knew the truth. That she wasn’t actually sick yesterday, just wildly hungover. And she feared that those people wouldn’t quite believe that she was still suffering two days after the fact. And, unfortunately, it was those people that she needed to convince the most that she was fine, and that everything was normal.

So when Pearl’s voice finally announced breakfast over the loudspeaker, Peridot forced herself to sit up. Considering that she had a whole month and a half left at camp, she couldn’t afford to make anyone suspicious.

That plan, of course, had already failed though—Amethyst was suspicious. But Peridot also wasn’t sure how much that mattered right then. She noticed, as she fastened on her legs, that the other girl got ready for the day at breakneck speed with her back faced towards her. Amethyst then bustled out the door without a backwards glance over her shoulder.

After what she’d said to her last night, Peridot didn’t entirely blame her. But she found it difficult to feel guilty.

She kind of found it difficult to feel anything, actually.

Having allowed the rest of the Pink campers to bolt out the door ahead of her, Peridot meandered to the Temple alone. She hadn’t realized that she’d been holding her breath until she entered the building and realized, with a sigh of relief, that neither Lapis nor Jasper had yet arrived. So she retrieved a breakfast tray and sat at the staff table alone.

Well, not entirely alone. Garnet was already there, but she sat at the other end of the table per usual. Garnet didn’t acknowledge Peridot’s presence, so Peridot returned the favor.

All too soon, Jenny, Buck, and Sour Cream arrived. They picked up their own breakfast—Jenny whispering a just-audible, “Thank you, Gunga!” through the kitchen window as they did so—and then joined Peridot.

“So,” Jenny sighed with a smile, as she zeroed in on peeling an orange. “We missed you yesterday, P! What did you and Lapis get up to?”

 _Oof,_ Peridot mused internally. _Right out the gate._ But she managed to smile back and say, with a casualness that she never knew she was capable of, “Not a lot. We just kind of lazed around all day. It was a nice break.”

It was almost impressive how much easier it was to lie when Peridot was beyond freaking out to the point of feeling rather numb.

Sour Cream chuckled. “I believe that.”

“Me, too.” Jenny grinned wide. “Your Pinks.” She paused to take a bite of her breakfast. “They’re a high-energy group, huh?”

The corner of Peridot’s mouth twitched. “You could say that.”

When the Temple door opened again, Peridot’s eyes automatically jumped to it. It was as if she suspected who was coming in before she even saw them—and, most regrettably, she was right. There was Jasper, who stopped to hold the door open. And then there was Lapis.

Peridot’s lungs collapsed in on themselves. But when Jasper caught her eye and nodded at her in greeting, Peridot was still somehow able to grin and wave in return. Jasper sat with Garnet, and Lapis sidled up to slip into the seat directly across from Peridot.

Lapis didn’t say anything to her, or otherwise made any indication that she’d even noticed Peridot’s presence. She just leaned in to say hello to the group at large and dove into their conversation about the main events of yesterday’s beach visit. So, eager to give Lapis the same treatment— _See how_ she _likes it!_ —Peridot just dropped her gaze to look determinately at her breakfast.

As the others chatted around her, she tried her hardest to tune out Lapis’s voice, and the melodic quality of Lapis’s laugh. But slowly—despite herself—the numbness that had been weighing Peridot down since last night ebbed away. And it was simultaneously feeling harder and harder to not let herself look up.

Peridot glanced off to the side in order to distract herself. So, without fully realizing what she was doing, she looked at Jasper, who had already stuffed her mouth to full capacity. Usually, the sight would’ve made Peridot smile. That was her best friend. Her borderline revolting, vulgar, asshole of a best friend, but her best friend all the same. But looking at her just then suddenly— _finally_ —elicited a feeling that Peridot had been putting off.

That feeling was dread, which was mixed with guilt, which was mixed with absolute and utter self-loathing.

Peridot preferred the numbness. So she dropped her eyes to examine her breakfast once more.

She shot up from the table and out the door just as soon as it was time for the day’s first lesson. Peridot was eager—maybe for the first time in her life—to be outside, largely because it had felt as if the Temple's four walls had been closing in on her and truthfully she just needed some room to _breathe_. But the openness and the fresh air that outside provided did little to comfort her once Peridot remembered that Sunday mornings were spent in swimming class.

“You ready, Per?” said Lapis’s voice from behind her. Peridot couldn’t help but note that the other girl had caught up rather quickly.

But she didn’t mention this. Nor did she mention the way her heart bubbled into her throat to hear Lapis say a single syllable of her name. Instead, without even turning around to look at Lapis, Peridot just said, “Yep.” And she marched forward onto the path that led to the lake.

Once they arrived, she noticed large, plastic tubs that lined the edge of the dock. Peridot watched as Steven ran up and shoved both arms inside of one, pulling out a pair of goggles with a snorkel attached. “ _Cool!_ ” he gushed, turning to grin widely in Peridot’s direction. “Isn’t this _cool,_ guys?”

Peridot didn’t answer. But Connie and Amethyst soon came from behind her to join Steven, and it was Connie who agreed, “ _Way_ cool!” Amethyst, Peridot noted, remained silent as well—but she grabbed a pair of goggles and a snorkel for herself anyway.

“Flippers are in the other buckets!” Lapis called out to them as more campers rushed to claim equipment for themselves. “Then have at it!”

Steven threw her a thumbs up before grabbing Connie’s hand to pick out pairs of flippers. Amethyst followed them, though not without a hint of sulkiness. Peridot felt her chest twinge a little—on top of everything else she had to worry about, she now had to deal with how much she’d apparently hurt Amethyst.

Peridot was just musing on whether it would be worth it to try to apologize to Amethyst yet when she felt bare skin graze her own upper arm. She knew it was Lapis before she even spoke. “Hey,” Lapis whispered.

Peridot kept her eyes trained in front of her, watching kids in blue and pink bandanas stumble over the flippers on their feet and hop ungracefully into the water. She wouldn’t look at Lapis. She refused. “Hey,” she replied.

When Sour Cream came up and stood at Peridot’s other side, she felt her shoulders relax a bit. He would be the perfect buffer; there would be no chance, no pressure to mention anything about—well, _what happened_ —if Sour Cream was there listening.

But then Lapis leaned forward to talk directly to him. Peridot could just see the other girl’s blue hair out of her peripheral vision as she kept her eyes intently on the water. “Hey, S.C.,” Lapis said. Peridot could just _hear_ the smile in her voice. “There’s at least one extra set of everything if you want to join in.”

Sour Cream chuckled. “You read my mind, L.” And then, all too soon, he was gone—leaving nothing but the bottom part of his cargo pants discarded in his wake.

Everyone was now in the water except for Lapis and Peridot. Unable to stand having Lapis so close—her upper arm still brushed against Peridot’s own—Peridot stepped forward to plant herself at the edge of the dock. But before she’d even finished crossing her legs under herself, Lapis had joined her once more, sitting down delicately with her legs hanging above the water.

A heavy silence hung between them for an extra moment before Lapis cleared her throat. “So,” she said, so quietly that Peridot had to strain to hear her. (Not that she would admit to straining to hear her, of course.) “How are you?”

Peridot couldn’t keep herself from scoffing. “Great. Just great. You?”

She could hear Lapis sigh. “Peridot.”

“Lazuli.”

“ _Peridot_ ,” Lapis said, even softer now. “Look at me, huh?”

Peridot stared resolutely out at the water. But then her resolve buckled, and she allowed her eyes to flick towards the girl sitting next to her.

Lapis was looking right back at her, wearing an expression of intermingled concern and apprehension. “You okay?” she asked.

Peridot blinked. Then she forced her eyes forward again. “What do _you_ think?”

With another sigh—this one slightly exasperated, yet somehow slightly amused—Lapis whispered, “Let’s talk about it then.”

Unable to control herself, Peridot wheeled around to face Lapis. “What, _here? Now?_ Are you _insane?_ ”

“A little.” A smirk played at the corner of Lapis’s lips.

Ignoring the way looking at Lapis’s mouth made Peridot’s insides squirm, Peridot frowned.  She crossed her arms over her chest. “I think that a conversation at this place and time would be ill-advised.”

“Okay.” Lapis nodded. “Then when? And where?”

“I don’t know,” Peridot replied, allowing her gaze to drift back over the lake and watching the campers splash at its surface like thirty malfunctioning submarines. After an extra-long pause, she muttered, “Later.”

She sensed Lapis nodding once more. And then they were silent for a while. Peridot busied herself by watching the campers, just visible by their snorkels and flippers, drift lazily across the water.

Peridot didn’t realize how much she’d allowed herself to relax until she was suddenly very unrelaxed. She stiffened, and it took her a second to realize that what had spooked her so much was the feeling of Lapis’s fingertips grazing her lower back.

At first, she wanted to push them away. Her next instinct was to get up and run. But she didn’t do either of those things as—slowly, and despite herself—she instead allowed herself to lean into Lapis’s touch.

Peridot still didn’t let herself look at Lapis, though. That would be too much. She kept her eyes trained on the splashes and ripples the kids made in the water until the lesson was over and Lapis withdrew her hand.

The campers crawled onto the dock, dumped their equipment, and—per usual—began to tiredly make their way up the path back to the Temple for lunch. Peridot—also per usual—followed them. But she didn’t get far before she heard Lapis’s voice from behind her. “Hold on, Per! Help me organize these, will you?”

Peridot halted in her tracks. She turned back to face the dock, where Lapis had her arms full of assorted sizes of flippers. To the untrained ear, the request appeared innocent enough. But Peridot had a sneaking suspicion that the request wasn’t actually innocent in the slightest.

This suspicion was confirmed when Sour Cream stopped too. “I’ll stay back and help you guys, then,” he said.

And then Lapis beamed at him as she dumped her cargo into a plastic tub and sighed, “That’s okay, S.C., you go and make sure everyone gets up there all right. We’ll see you in a second.”

With a shrug and a small, “Okey doke. See you,” Sour Cream left. Peridot took a moment to stare at his retreating form and noticed that, a little further up the trail, Amethyst had slowed down. Peridot suspected that the other girl had hung back out of irrepressible curiosity. But just as soon as Sour Cream caught up with her, Amethyst continued on as well.

Only once the others’ footsteps had died away did Peridot dare to face Lapis once more. By the time she’d spun around to look at the other girl, however, Lapis was already upon her. Before Peridot could do anything—back away or yelp or _anything_ —Lapis connected her lips to her own.

It was mixture of shock and some form of relief that kept Peridot in place, and soon—in spite of every tumultuous feeling that she’d experienced since last night—she was kissing Lapis back. It was suddenly as if they were picking up from where they left of the day before. For a minute, Peridot was so lost in Lapis’s touch and taste and smell that she’d forgotten that she was supposed to be feeling guilty and hurt. She’d just brought up her hands to squeeze Lapis’s upper arms when Lapis pulled away just enough to press their foreheads together.

“Hi,” Lapis whispered onto her lips.

“Hey,” Peridot replied. She kept her eyes squeezed tightly shut to hold on to the moment (if only for just a little bit longer).

Then Lapis sighed, “I _missed_ you.”

The weight of Lapis’s words jolted Peridot into prying her eyes open at last. She originally intended to respond that she had missed Lapis too. So much, in fact, that she felt as if someone had cut a hole into her, which was ludicrous considering that they were last left alone less than twenty-four hours before.

But then Peridot remembered that it was no longer yesterday. They were no longer alone with the whole camp at their disposal, and they were no longer confined to their own little dream world. The fact that they were hurting anyone—someone in particular—could no longer be ignored.

She blinked, and then she stepped back, crossing her arms over her chest as she did so. Peridot felt a hardened sensation clench at her gut as she asked, “Why did you do that?”

Lapis blinked too. Her hands were still slightly outstretched, where they’d just been resting on Peridot’s hips. “Oh—” She blinked again. “I’m sorry. I just—”

“What happened to what you said last night? About stopping with—with the—” Peridot gesticulated wildly in front of herself then, searching for the right words. She settled on bumping her fists together lamely. “—with _this?_ ”

It surprised Peridot to see Lapis smirk in response. “Like I said. I missed you.”

Words failed Peridot once more as she narrowed her eyes suspiciously. Lapis, meanwhile, stepped back as she began to put away the leftover equipment again.

When Peridot didn’t respond, Lapis threw a glance over her shoulder at her. “What?” Peridot could hear the smirk remain in Lapis’s voice, even though she couldn’t see it. “Didn’t you miss _me_?”

An emphatic “ _yes_ ” would be the most truthful answer. Instead—and after taking an extra moment to collect herself—she said, “I don’t believe that’s relevant.”

Lapis finished her work as she finally, unceremoniously, _loudly_ dropped an armful of goggles into a bucket. She then turned to face Peridot once more, dragging her forearm across her forehead as she frowned. “Well, we’ll agree to disagree then.”

Peridot frowned back at her. Rushing through her mind were a million different thoughts, so many that they were making her dizzy. She couldn’t pick out a single one of them on which to focus to save her life. Lost in her internal chaos, Peridot shut down. So, with a shake of her head, she turned to leave.

But then Lapis called out, “Wait.”

In spite of her better judgment, Peridot waited. She didn’t turn her back or say anything in response, but she waited still.

“Meet me tonight. Here.”

Peridot couldn’t keep her jaw from dropping a little at the audacity of the request (and, most unfortunately, the thrill that it gave her). She tried to work up the courage to respond—but, first, she had to figure out what her response would be.

Before Peridot could regain a hold of her internal crisis, however, Lapis continued with a small chuckle. “I know that sounds kind of crazy, especially since the way we left it last night—” Lapis heaved a great sigh. “Well. You get it.”

Peridot remained immobile, holding her breath so as to not miss a single word.

“But,” Lapis pressed on, “I changed my mind. I don’t want to spend the entire summer staying away from you.”

Despite herself, Peridot felt the slightest of flutters stir in her chest. But she swallowed them down. “Jasper, though,” was all Peridot could say in reply.

And although Peridot couldn’t _see_ Lapis, she could _feel_ her deflate. “Well. Yeah.”

There was something in Lapis’s voice—or, rather, a _lack_ of something—that made the decision on Peridot’s behalf. “No, thank you,” she said. And then, without turning once to look back at Lapis, she moved forward up the path.

Lapis, at the very least, had the good sense not to follow her. But still, Peridot felt as if a string was tied around one of her ribs and that it was tethered to the lake. Every step she took away, the harder the string tugged.

Peridot was only able to shake the feeling off her once she’d climbed the steps to Pink Cabin and slammed the door behind her. She’d only been allowed a second to catch her breath before she realized she wasn’t alone.

Amethyst stood beside her bunk, glaring at Peridot from under her hair. She had been alone in the cabin, and hastily turned to finish pulling on her shoes. She grumbled, “I was just leaving.”

Maybe it was the leftover guilt from what she’d said the night before, or maybe it was the most fundamental need to vent to someone she could trust. Regardless, and before she could stop herself, Peridot blurted out in a single, rushed breath, “I had sex with Lapis.”

There was a moment’s silence as Amethyst blinked at her. Then, she shuffled across the room to sit herself on Peridot’s bed. When Amethyst looked back up at her, Peridot noticed that any anger or hurt had completely melted away from her face. Instead, Amethyst’s eyes were wide with what Peridot recognized as mixed concern and thirst.

Her lips pursed in an obvious attempt not to grin, Amethyst whispered, “Spill.”

\---

Lunch had passed entirely (and so had most of art class) before Peridot was finished relaying every intricate detail of what had transpired between her and Lapis over the last couple of days. Amethyst, to her credit, hadn’t interrupted her once to say anything. Peridot’s rant, however, was frequently punctuated by gasps, low whistles, and eyebrows shooting upward.

“And, so,” Peridot finished by staring up at the ceiling, “I came here. And here we are.”

“Here we are,” Amethyst echoed. Peridot waited with baited breath as Amethyst exhaled sharply. “So, what are you going to do?”

With a groan, Peridot fell backward onto her mattress, flinging her arms over her face as she cried out, “I have _no_ idea.”

Peridot then felt Amethyst collapse next to her. The other girl sighed, “I don’t know, Peri. I thought Lapis was cool, you know? But she’s sure as hell not being cool right now. Playing with you like that.”

With a scoff, Peridot withdrew her arms from their position over her eyes. She glanced at Amethyst with a smile that felt too tight. “‘Not being cool’ is one way to put it, I suppose.”

After a short pause, Amethyst asked, “Are you going to tell Jaz?”

“No,” Peridot replied immediately. Her heart felt like it was trying to squirm out of her chest at the idea of keeping such a thing from her best friend, but still. “She’d never forgive me,” she finished in a whisper.

“Welp,” grunted Amethyst as she adjusted her arms to lay her head upon them. “Maybe you shouldn’t’ve done the do then.”

Despite herself—and despite the inconvenient truth to Amethyst’s words—Peridot couldn’t help barking out a laugh. “You’re lewd.”

“ _I’m_ lewd?” Amethyst chuckled. “ _I’ve_ still got my V card.” After another moment, Amethyst whispered, “So. How was it?”

Peridot felt her face burn, and she resisted the urge to cross her arms over it again. She also tried to ignore the way her heart beat a little faster from just remembering how _it_ was. She inhaled deeply before she said, “Good. It was good.”

Amethyst guffawed. “ _Good?_ That’s _it? Seriously?_ ”

Peridot laughed too. “What do you want from me? Gory details?”

Making a _pfft_ sound between her lips, Amethyst said, “Uh, yeah.”

“You _are_ lewd.” Then after an extra minute, Peridot sighed. “It was—I don’t know. It was—”

“It was worth it?”

“That’s yet to be seen.” Peridot chewed at the inside of her cheek before she said, “But maybe. Yeah.”

“Wow,” Amethyst muttered. “Are you going to meet her tonight?”

Peridot shook her head. “No. I don’t think so.”

“Don’t want to push your luck?”

Grimacing, Peridot said, “Something like that.”

They were quiet then for a while, each contemplating the bed slats of the top bunk above them. Soon enough, though, Amethyst sat up and began to scooch herself off the mattress. “Yo, it’s time for dinner. We should split.”

Peridot shot up. “Oh _stars_ , we missed art?”

“Yeah, homegirl. And, more importantly, _lunch_.” Amethyst threw her hair up into a pony tail, then stood with her hands on her hip. “Well, _come on_ then. I’m not skipping _two_ meals to listen to you whine.”

Peridot, unable to keep herself from smiling, stood up and walked to the door. “I guess we can’t postpone the chew-out of the century much longer. Pearl is going to have a field day.”

Just as her hand grazed the handle, Peridot heard Amethyst say, “Hey, Peridot.”

Peridot turned and, before she could react, was enveloped in a hug.

“Thanks. You know. For telling me.”

After a moment, Peridot brought up her hands to pat Amethyst’s back lamely. “Yeah. Well. Sorry. For being a huge clod before.”

Amethyst snorted, then pulled away. “Whatever. You’re a nerd. But you’re still kind of cool.” She reached forward to open the door, holding it to let Peridot out first. “Let’s hit it.”

\---

Tragically, Peridot was correct about Pearl’s reaction to her and Amethyst’s absence. No sooner had they entered the Temple than they heard Pearl’s voice call out over the general hubbub of campers, “ _Peridot! Amethyst!_ _A word?_ ”

Peridot could see out of her peripheral vision that Lapis, who was already seated at the staff table, had turned to look at the door. But she refused to look at her directly, and instead focused her attention on Pearl, who launched into her tirade just as soon as they’d reached the other end of the table.

“Peridot, while I understand that you’ve been feeling rather under the weather recently,” Pearl lectured, wagging her finger so close to Peridot’s face that she was almost tapping her nose, “it is still _imperative_ that you respect the chain of command and _inform_ me when you are going to be absent!”

Amethyst, who had begun picking at her teeth, muttered through her fingertips, “Come on, P. What did you want Peridot to do? She was feeling shitty, and—”

“Don’t even get me _started_ on you, Amethyst!” Pearl seethed, whipping her finger around to point it between Amethyst’s eyes. “You don’t even _have_ a valid-enough excuse to justify—”

“You don’t know that!” Amethyst snapped back, pulling her fingers from her mouth to slap Pearl’s hand away.

Pearl crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes looking deadly. “Oh, I would just _love_ to hear whatever ludicrous, crackpot—”

“Hey, Per,” a voice whispered to Peridot’s left. She knew even before she turned to face the other girl that it was Jasper.

As a leaden fist seemed to punch her right in the gut, Peridot plastered on a huge grin. “Heh—uh, hey.”

Jasper, who had just seated herself next to where Peridot was standing, dug into her dinner tray. There was something in her eyes verging on a conspiratorial gleam. “So, I heard you played hooky today.”

“Oh, yeah?” Peridot said, willing her voice not to hitch.

“Yeah, I mean, I noticed that you hadn’t shown up at lunch. But then Lapis told me that you missed art, too.”

Peridot couldn’t keep her eyes from glancing down the table’s length. At the far end, Lapis was leaning forward, seemingly emerged in a story that Sour Cream was telling. But there was no mistaking when her eyes twitched towards Peridot and Jasper’s end of the table. “I didn’t realize she still went,” Peridot mumbled, meaning to speak to Jasper but still remaining concentrated on Lapis’s form.

“Yeah,” Jasper gruffed, shifting closer to Peridot so that their heads were no further than a foot away from each other. “You know who else I heard ditched? And who I _also_ remembered wasn’t at lunch?”

Finally, after Peridot and Lapis’s stares briefly met, Peridot was able to tear her eyes away to focus on Jasper once more. “Huh? Who?”

Jasper chuckled, and elbowed Peridot hard in the ribs. “Amethyst.”

“Oh, yeah,” Peridot said, shrinking away and looking back towards Amethyst and Pearl, who were still deeply engrossed in their argument. “She was with me.”

Jasper’s face contorted in her attempt not to burst out laughing.

Peridot, meanwhile, felt more confused at that moment than she had all day. And that was saying something. “What?”

Waggling her eyebrows now, Jasper whispered in a hoarse voice. “You did end up eating, then?”

For a blissful moment, Peridot was completely ignorant of what Jasper was implying. And then she figured it out. Her mouth dropped open in horror before she punched Jasper on the bicep. “ _You—_ you’re such—vulgar—that’s _not_ what—”

Jasper had dissolved completely into a fit of giggles. Wiping tears from the corners of her eyes, she wheezed, “I hadn’t pegged you for a cougar, Per. I couldn’t be prouder.”

Despite herself, Peridot felt a smile creep over her face, and soon she was laughing along. She allowed herself a normal moment with her best friend, momentarily forgetting—well, everything. “You know me. Hot young co-eds. That’s my type.”

Jasper nearly hiccupped as she gasped for breath. “What, did you read that straight off of a porn site? The Ivy League has _changed_ you.”

Peridot opened her mouth to correct Jasper for the umpteenth time, but Pearl cut in. “Jasper,” she admonished with a grimace, “I would _appreciate_ your restraint from mentioning such _crude_ topics in a room filled with children, hm?”

Japer muttered something under her breath regarding Pearl removing a stick from a certain bodily cavity, but Pearl—thankfully—seemed not to have heard.

She nodded at Peridot and said with tight lips, “Well. In the future, let me know _ahead_ of time, all right? Perhaps it’s best if you and Amethyst proceeded with your dinner now.”

Amethyst, who had stepped around Pearl to stand closer to Peridot, mumbled, “Stellar. Come on, Peri.”

Peridot began to follow her, but then stopped. “I’ll catch up with you,” she said, and Amethyst nodded and walked on. Peridot then turned back to Jasper.

By that point, Jasper had composed herself. She ran a hand through her hair as she shot Peridot a wolfish grin. “So, I’ll see you and your _girl_ at the fire tonight?”

With a slight sigh, Peridot began, “She’s _not_ my—”

But Jasper stopped her with a heavy palm on her shoulder. “I _know_ , Per. I’m just yanking your chain. What else are buds for?”

Peridot couldn’t help smiling a little at that.

Until, that is, Jasper continued, “I know you’d tell me if anything was going on.”

Peridot swallowed. “Yeah. Well. I’m going to—”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jasper dismissed her with a wave of her hand. “Go get food. We’ll meet up after dinner.”

By the time she reached the little kitchen window out of which Jenny’s grandmother was pushing trays of food forward, Peridot felt as if she’d run ten miles. Her blood was pumping hard and furiously. Her skin felt as if it were on fire.

Amethyst, who had retrieved a tray and was leaning against the countertop waiting for Peridot, chuckled, “You all right there, homegirl?”

Peridot accepted some food for herself, and then lightly shook her head.

“Come on, let’s sit.” Amethyst then guided Peridot to the staff table, steering her gently with her hand between her shoulder blades. At their arrival, Jenny greeted them in earnest, with Buck and Sour Cream making welcoming (if more subtle) gestures as well.

Lapis looked up and smiled, too, as if everything was normal. The sight made Peridot feel sicker with guilt and frustration than she already was.

Peridot still moved to sit across from Lapis as she always did. But when Amethyst slid onto the bench next to her and bumped her hip to scoot her further down, Peridot was more than happy to oblige. Now, she sat in front of Jenny, while Amethyst settled directly in front of Lapis. “’Sup, L,” she said with a single nod of her head before stuffing her mouth full of meatloaf.

Lapis, meanwhile, grimaced briefly before glancing confusedly at Peridot. Peridot looked down at her plate so as to avoid eye contact, but she couldn’t keep a wry smile off her face.

Though the situation was still far from ideal, and no matter how everything might end, Peridot was grateful to at least have Amethyst. Because she could at least count on having her when the shit would inevitably hit the fan.

\---

True to her word—and in spite of her usual desire to go straight to bed—Peridot accompanied the group to the campfire that night. Maybe it was because Amethyst was present to act as a buffer between her and Lapis throughout dinner, but Peridot figured that staying out a little bit later couldn’t cause any more psychological harm than what she was already currently struggling with.

Jasper had led (a slightly distracted) Lapis to sit on a log furthest back from where Steven and Connie were already making a mess of charred marshmallows. Amethyst guided Peridot to sit on the log in front of them—close enough for conversation to continue normally, but far enough away that there would be five bodies between Peridot and Lapis. In an alternate universe where Peridot was not mentally preoccupied with the events of the last couple days, she would have been impressed at Amethyst’s taking on the role of anti-wingman so fervently.

Jenny, Buck, and Sour Cream took their own spots in between the two pairs, and no sooner had they done so than Buck leaned in to whisper, “Guess what I scored yesterday when we were in town.”

Jasper hissed an exultant, “ _Yes,_ ” and reached her hand towards Buck’s jacket, from where he’d just flashed a glass bottle.

“Not _here,_ ” Jenny whispered, looking over her own shoulder to locate Pearl, who was busy demonstrating the proper way to toast a marshmallow to the campers nearest her. Jenny then looked back at the group, beaming. “Dock. Twenty minutes?”

There was a collective assent from the group—until, that is, Lapis cut in. “I don’t know, guys,” she sighed. “Pearl’s been spending every night in our cabin since the dance. And she has ears like a hawk. It might not be the best idea.”

Perhaps Peridot was just paranoid, but she thought that Lapis was making an obvious attempt to look at anyone who wasn’t her.

Jenny frowned, her lips pouting. “Well, that’s the pits.”

Lapis nodded solemnly. “Yeah.”

Then Jasper, with a quick glance in Pearl’s direction, leaned forward to grab the bottle from Buck’s inner jacket pocket. She cracked the lid, took a swig, and replaced it in the blink of an eye. While a few of them laughed, Lapis scowled and slapped Jasper’s wrist.

“ _What?_ ” Jasper grinned at Lapis as she drew her wrist over her mouth. “Just to last until tomorrow, huh?” At that point, she wrapped her arm around Lapis’s waist and drew her closer to whisper something into her ear. Only then did Lapis give a fleeting look in Peridot’s direction before lightly shoving Jasper away.

“I don’t think so,” Lapis muttered in response. Though she was smiling playfully up at Jasper, Peridot picked up on a slight edge to her voice. The others continued chatting amicably, however, so Peridot suspected that it had gone unnoticed by anyone else but her.

Soon enough, Sour Cream stood and stretched. “Time for this guy to hit the hay, so to speak,” he drawled.

Jenny stood as well. “Yeah, I’m with you S.C. Good night, guys.”

Everyone exchanged good nights as Sour Cream and Jenny were joined by Buck, and the three of them began their trek up the path that led behind the Temple. Seizing the opportunity, Peridot stood too.

“You going to bed, Per?” Jasper asked, looking almost disappointed.

“Uh, yeah,” Peridot responded, scratching the back of her neck. “You with me?” she directed at Amethyst.

“Sure thing,” Amethyst grunted as she got to her feet. “Night, Jaz. Night, L.”

Lapis didn’t say anything until Peridot and Amethyst had gotten a few steps away. Then she called out, “See you later?”

Peridot turned to look at her. Lapis and Jasper had stood up as well, and Lapis was gazing at her expectantly. To anyone else, this would be an innocuous-enough thing to say. But Peridot realized what Lapis was trying to ask her. So she set her lips into a tight line, ignored the way her heart had attempted to make a sudden leap out of her throat, and said, “Yeah. See you guys tomorrow.”

She figured that Lapis would understand what she meant: _I will not see you tonight._

She _knew_ that Lapis understood what she meant when she blinked and nodded once before turning her face up to Jasper.

Peridot turned around in time to not see them kiss, but just knowing that it had happened made her stomach twist into a knot.

As she and Amethyst were climbing the Pink Cabin steps a minute later, she felt a hardy pat on her shoulder. “Good job, man,” Amethyst whispered. “One night down.”

Peridot scoffed, but forced a smile all the same. “Only thirty-three to go.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything gets worse before it gets better before it gets worse again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for waiting over six months for this update. I hope to not make you wait that long again (but no promises).

Peridot had never before faced such a trial of her resolution, which was made particularly obvious as she struggled to fall asleep that night.

There was a chorus of light snores (with the exception of Amethyst’s, which could not by any definition be categorized as “light”) intermingled with cricket chirps from just beyond Peridot’s window. This was a medley that Peridot had typically found comforting since she first started attending camp. But tonight, it did nothing to calm her. Instead of dozing off (as she should have done an hour or two or three ago), Peridot was stiff as a board under her sheets, staring at the bunk above her with eyes that simply refused to close.

Her brain was too busy to allow her body to relax. It was preoccupied with—what else—thoughts of Lapis. Thoughts of Lapis laying naked beside her as the afternoon sun made slanting patterns through the cabin window over their bodies. Then thoughts of Lapis doing the same thing with Jasper, probably _still_ doing the same thing with Jasper, even after what happened. Thoughts of Lapis allowing Jasper to kiss her and hold her.

But then came that intruding thought of Lapis pushing away Jasper’s advances from only hours before.

And, more than anything, thoughts of Lapis waiting quietly at the edge of the dock—which she was maybe even doing right that second—for _her_. For _Peridot,_ of all people.

Peridot got as far as to sit up, fully intending to retrieve her legs from their resting place against the bedframe. But just as soon as she was upright, she stopped herself. Meeting Lapis was not an option—first and most prevalent of all—because it was _wrong_.

A voice at the back of Peridot’s mind whispered, _Well, that didn’t stop you before._

It should have, though. And it was too late to change anything that already happened, so all Peridot could really expect herself to do was to keep from repeating the same mistake twice.

 _What happened with Lapis sure didn’t_ feel _like a mistake, though. At least, at the time_ , the voice piped up again.

Hindsight’s twenty-twenty, isn’t it? Peridot couldn’t justify brief indulgences if their follow-up included a lifetime of being sick with guilt and anxiety.

_Maybe if you just tell Jasper—_

No. Peridot squeezed the bridge of her nose, hard. If she could just tune out the nagging and finally fall asleep.

_She’s out there waiting for you._

She’s _not,_ though. Peridot had made it clear to Lapis that she would not be meeting her tonight, so why would Lapis even bother showing up, let alone waiting around? Just as she thought this, Peridot’s gaze wandered towards the window. Even without the aid of her glasses, she could tell that the path behind Pink Cabin was completely still.

 _You_ said _you weren’t going. And yet here you are, sitting up in your bed at who-knows-what-time in the morning, staring out the window like you’re waiting for her to crawl through it._

Well, the voice had a point there. So slowly, almost methodically, Peridot lowered her head once more onto her pillow.

_Clod._

Peridot grabbed her pillow out from under her head before smashing it over her face and ears. But the action didn’t do much to muffle her internal dialogue, so she was forced to endure a few more hours of its repartee before she was finally able to nod off.

It seemed mere minutes, however, before the wakeup call sounded and the clambering of fifteen other bodies readying themselves for the day filled the cabin. Peridot clenched her eyes shut more tightly, hoping against hope that she suddenly had the power to stop time just so she could get a couple more hours of (what she considered to be) well deserved sleep.

“Yo,” said a voice next to her bed. Peridot peeled a single eyelid open to see Amethyst hovering over her.

“Huh?” Peridot groaned.

Amethyst’s eyes narrowed. “So did you go last night?”

Peridot closed her eye once more, and sighed, “Nope.”

Peridot then heard Amethyst chuckle, and felt the other girl’s hand pat her firmly on the shoulder. “Right on, Per. Just keep it up for, like, five more weeks and you’re _golden_.”

\---

Monday was easy—or, at least, it was easi _er_ —because Monday was one of the days that Pink Cabin attended their sports and nature classes. Mondays meant no swim or art lessons, which meant less Lapis exposure, for which Peridot couldn’t deny she was a little thankful.

Monday was unexpectedly made even easier by Lapis’s absence at breakfast. No one else at the staff table took much notice of this aside from Amethyst, who met Peridot’s eyes, raised her eyebrows with a confused frown, and then proceeded to settle herself in Peridot’s usual spot on the bench. Peridot squeezed herself between Amethyst and Sour Cream, and concentrated on her breakfast as the rest of the group chatted animatedly around her.

Or, at least, she _tried_ to concentrate on her breakfast. But the empty seat just across the table soon proved to be just too distracting.

Where _was_ Lapis?

 _Probably with Jasper_ , the voice inside of Peridot’s head muttered.

A glance down the table, however, proved this prediction false. Jasper was unmistakably alone.

Jasper was also—now that Peridot got a good look at her—looking miserable. Not the mad kind of miserable, or the bored kind of miserable. Just the miserable kind of miserable.

Jasper, in other words, looked the way Peridot felt.

The question of where Lapis was surfaced at the forefront of Peridot’s mind once more as Jasper glanced up from her own breakfast. Their eyes met, and Jasper’s lip turned up briefly in a half-hearted smile.

Peridot just had time to return the gesture before she felt an elbow dig sharply into her ribcage.

“ _Ouch,_ ” Peridot seethed, whipping around to face Amethyst head-on. “What’s your _issue?_ ”

Amethyst just chuckled. “Yo, earth to Peri. Were you listening literally at all to what we just said?”

“Uh—” Peridot gazed around at the rest of the group, all of whom were watching her expectantly.

“That’s a ‘no,’” Amethyst mumbled around her grin.

“We’re gonna do something for Ame’s birthday this weekend!” Jenny supplied, beaming in Amethyst’s direction. “Baby girl’s turning eighteen. That deserves a big blowout!”

“Oh—okay,” Peridot stuttered. She shot a sideways glance back in Jasper’s direction, but the other girl had already looked back down at her food. “What do—”

“Here’s what I’m thinking,” Amethyst said around a grin, leaning back and counting on her fingers as she listed ideas. “Car—”

“How?” Peridot scoffed.

“Steal it, of course. Or borrow Jasper’s van.” Amethyst rolled her eyes. “Doy. Anyway. Car. Empire City. Clubbing. Pizza. More clubbing. More pizza. Trash a hotel room, sleep it off on the ride back, and boom—” She swept her hands in front of herself in a displaying motion. “—back in time for Beach Day!”

“Sounds good to me,” Sour Cream said as he took a sip of juice.

“Oh yeah,” Peridot scoffed again, unable to suppress a smirk. “Just a quick seven-hour round trip up and down the Jersey Turnpike. Assuming we leave here at lights out, we can get there just as the bars are closing, and then leave immediately so that we can return before breakfast. Pearl won’t notice a thing.”

“Ugh, Peri _dweeb._ ” Amethyst fixed her with a stern glare. “This isn’t _Beach_ City we’re talking about. It’s _Empire_ City. One in the morning is when the good bars _open_ on a Friday night! And besides, Pearl should come with us.” She shot a sideways glance down the length of the table. “God knows she needs a night out more than anyone.”

“Preach, sister,” mumbled Buck, raising his own cup of juice in agreement.

“Oh yeah,” Peridot said. “Why don’t you go invite her then?”

Amethyst’s face reddened only slightly. “Whatever, that’s just my _ideal_ night. I’m not saying we should actually _do_ it.”

“How about—” Jenny said, leaning forward as she cut in. “We sneak out, grab a slice from my family’s place, and then hit that warehouse again. That was pretty fun, right?”

“’Til Peri puked and passed out,” Amethyst added sulkily.

As Peridot shot Amethyst a pointed stare of her own, Jenny sighed. “Okay, okay. Just think about it and let us know what you want to do. Realistically, I mean.”

The general hubbub reached a crescendo as benches scooted out from beneath tables. It was time to go to class. The group followed suit. But just as Peridot began to follow Amethyst down the aisle between tables, she heard Jasper call out.

“Per, hold up a sec.”

Peridot’s spine stiffened instantly. Amethyst must have felt it, too, because she turned on a dime to look at Peridot, her eyebrow quirked upward.

“Go on,” Peridot said. Her voice felt tense. “I’ll meet you out on the field.”

“I hope so,” Amethyst replied. “Hey. What do we say to the God of Death?”

“What?”

“‘Not today.’” Amethyst smiled and added, “Good luck, dude,” before she made her way out of the Temple.

Peridot stared confusedly at her retreating back until Jasper was suddenly in front of her.

“Can we talk for a minute?” she asked.

With a gulp, Peridot nodded her head, willed her stomach to unclench itself, and followed Jasper out the door and to the steps of Pink Cabin. Jasper settled herself first on the topmost step, and Peridot tumbled onto her backside next to her. Then she waited.

 _She knows_ , said the little voice in her mind.

 _Shut up, shut up, shut up,_ Peridot thought in response.

“Have you talked to Lapis recently?”

 “Uh—” Peridot began. She swallowed before she allowed herself to keep going. “Uh. No. I mean, yeah, I’ve talked to her in the last twenty-four hours. It’s not like I’m _avoiding_ her, heh. But not about—But—” She swallowed again. “Um. What do you _mean_ exactly?”

Jasper rested her elbow on her knee, and then her head on her hand. “I mean has she said anything about _me?_ Since we went to the club on Friday?”

“Oh.” There was a truthful answer to that. But that wasn’t the answer Peridot gave (for obvious reasons). “No. Not really.” She studied Jasper’s face for a moment. She looked so _deflated._ “Why?”

Jasper just shrugged her shoulders at first. Then, after a moment, she spoke. “I was just wondering if she said something about being mad at me. We didn’t really get to talk about what happened at the club—”

Peridot’s heart tried to pound straight out of her chest. “‘What happened at the club?’”

“You know, with the punk.”

“Oh, yeah.” The tightness in Peridot’s abdomen that had been steadily building lightened substantially. “What about it?”

“Well—” Jasper smiled a bit. “—if you haven’t noticed, Lapis doesn’t really like me bloodying people up much. Even if they deserve it.”

“I gathered.” Peridot tried to smile back, but felt her lips quavering and settled on a frown instead. “But why do you think she’s mad at you still?”

Jasper shrugged again. “I don’t know. She’s been acting like she’s somewhere else, you know what I mean?”

“You mean she’s been distant?”

“Yeah.” Jasper’s smile had disappeared. “Distant.” She moved to lean back on her hands. “I feel like she doesn’t want to be alone with me for some reason.”

Peridot could imagine what that was about. As irresponsible about the whole _situation_ as Lapis might be, she wasn’t heartless. Peridot presumed that Lapis wasn’t immune to the mixed up feelings of guilt and anxiety that she herself was experiencing.

The sick and twisted part of Peridot found comfort in this discovery. But she didn’t say anything like that out loud.

“Where was she at breakfast, anyway?” she asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

Jasper shrugged one last time. “No idea.”

They were quiet for a moment. Then Peridot muttered, “She’ll come around.” After a moment’s hesitation, she placed her hand on Jasper’s shoulder.

Jasper leaned into it, and smiled sadly again. “Thanks, Per.”

\---

Sports class passed uneventfully as Peridot watched the Pink and Blue Cabin kids play capture the flag. Sour Cream took a nap on the bench beside her. Peridot had a sneaking suspicion that Garnet might’ve dozed off too, because there was a point where her head lolled forward onto her chest. But with the sunglasses, she couldn’t tell for sure.

Then there was lunch. At this point, Lapis had finally shown up. She was quieter than usual, only adding an occasional remark to the group’s conversation. She didn’t make eye contact with Peridot once (not that Peridot noticed, of course. It wasn’t as if she periodically glanced up from her food to examine Lapis’s face, wishing more than ever that she could tell what the other girl was thinking. What a ridiculous accusation). Peridot did notice, however, that Jenny had glanced over at Lapis once or twice from the corners of her eyes. Jenny’s face was expressionless when this happened, save for the smallest wrinkle that appeared between her eyebrows.

But there wasn’t much time to analyze whatever _that_ might have meant before it was time to leave for Pink and Blue Cabins’ nature lesson. Peridot spent the entire time supervising Amethyst as she attempted to start a fire with her magnifying class—which the campers were _supposed_ to be using to examine bugs. Only after thirty minutes did a spark actually catch on a particularly dry leaf. Peridot stomped it out immediately, much to Amethyst’s dismay.

Then—all too soon—it was time for dinner. But Lapis was absent from the table once more. Again, Amethyst acknowledged this only briefly by raising her eyebrows and shrugging her shoulders an almost imperceptible amount. But again, no one else said anything. Even Jenny—who’d seemed mildly interested in Lapis’s behavior at lunch—gave zero indication that she noticed the empty seat right beside her.

The biggest disturbance occurred only once the rest of the Temple had significantly cleared out at the end of dinner. Most tables were vacated, with the exception of a couple independent groups of straggling campers, who chatted with their heads close together or occupied themselves with loud, slap-happy card games. Peridot noticed none of this—she was too busy dragging her fork around the remnants of her meal and listening to Jenny recount camper drama within her own cabin—until some movement stirred just beyond her peripheral vision. Then, a great shift as someone sat in the empty spot next to Jenny.

“Hey, Jaz,” Amethyst sighed.

And at that point, Peridot finally looked up. She’d been intent on staring at her plate at first, initially certain that the newcomer was Lapis. But when she heard Amethyst’s greeting—and Jasper’s mumbled, “Hey,” in response—her neck snapped upward.

“ _Jasper_ ,” Peridot scolded before she could stop herself, “what are you _doing_ here? Pearl is going to have your neck if she catches you on this end of the table!”

Jasper chuckled. It didn’t entirely reach her eyes, and that observation made Peridot feel worse than she had all day. “Don’t sweat it, Per. She’s already down at the fire.” She shrugged. “Can’t I have a little fun?”

Jenny’s expression turned wicked. “Funny you should mention that. Buck, do you got it with you?”

“You know it,” Buck replied, patting the oblong shape under the breast of his jacket, which Peridot only just then noticed.

Jasper’s grin widened. It was more genuine, more relaxed. “Where to, then?”

“The field,” Jenny replied, getting up from her seat as she spoke. “If Lapis’s tip from last night is good, we can’t do the dock. But that means Miss Thing won’t be back at her office again before the night’s done.” Buck and Sour Cream stood too, stepping out from behind the bench and covertly (or, at least what Peridot assumed they were trying to pass as “covertly”) arranging themselves so that the bulge across Buck’s chest was covered. Jenny continued, “Where’s L anyway? I don’t want to leave her behind!”

Jasper’s smile slackened a bit. She glanced briefly at Peridot as she said, “Not sure. But she’ll find us. Let’s just go.”

And so Jasper led the way, with Jenny, Sour Cream, and Buck following closely behind.

Before she stood, Peridot looked to Amethyst, who was already pushing herself away from the table. “Do we have to?” she asked.

“Yup.” Amethyst responded. And from previous experience, Peridot knew it wasn’t worth arguing.

Once they all exited the Temple, the group stopped on the porch. Pearl was facing the fire, her back to them as she gesticulated wildly in front of herself. Steven and Connie sat on either side of her, faces rapt with attention.

“Should we separate?” Sour Cream asked. “Meet back up in twenty?”

“Nah,” Jenny said as she continued down the stairs, hands in her pants pockets, looking casual as can be. “She can’t see us, there’s no point.”

The group then winded itself behind the building and past the darkened windows of Pearl’s office before they settled themselves on the far end of the field. The moon was mostly dark, and the little shadow casted off the art building added to their cover. In near total blackness, Buck pulled the bottle from its sheath, took a swig, and passed it to his right—to Peridot.

She hesitated. “Uh—skip me for now.” She took the bottle from Buck and passed it to her right to Amethyst.

Jasper chortled, “A little gun shy around the stuff now?”

Peridot’s face flushed, and she felt especially grateful for the darkness. “Yeah,” she forced out with a chuckle. “You could say that.”

Amethyst drank, and passed it to Jasper. As the bottle made its rounds, the others prattled on about their days, about their lessons, about funny things their campers did.

Peridot, meanwhile, only half-listened. She was otherwise preoccupied with the same barrage of mental harping that had been plaguing her for days. Feeling bad for what she’d done with Lapis, feeling bad for how it was obviously affecting Jasper—even if Jasper herself didn’t know the actual cause of her suffering. Feeling frustrated that Lapis was treating Jasper the way she was, first of all because it wasn't fair to Jasper. But, second of all, Peridot also felt like it wasn’t fair to _her._ If Lapis would just _act normal_ , then it would be easier for Peridot to follow suit.

Then Peridot heard Lapis’s name brought up in the conversation, and she managed to halt her own internal anguish to listen hard.

“She’s been acting off all day,” Jenny said, looking directly at Jasper. Jasper was busy examining the bottle that she cradled in her hands. “Is everything okay?”

“Off?” Amethyst asked before Jasper could respond. Peridot looked up to glare holes into the side of Amethyst’s head—but then she caught herself, and lowered her head once more. “What do you mean?” Amethyst pressed.

Jenny sighed. “Well, you saw she skipped two meals. Plus, at swim, she was acting weird. Sort of fidgety. Jaz put her hand on Lapis’s shoulder in the middle of the lesson, and L jumped and dropped an armful of goggles into the lake.” Jenny brought up a hand to twiddle with one of her earrings, all the while keeping her attention on Jasper. The crease in between her eyebrows reappeared. “Dunno. She’s just been weird.”

Jasper took a hard swallow of the whiskey before passing it on to Sour Cream. “Oh, she’s fine.” She grinned—which, once more, Peridot realized was not wide enough to be wholly convincing. “I don’t think she’s been sleeping well. Maybe the little monsters are finally getting to her,” she finished with a forced chuckle.

Peridot caught Amethyst glancing in her direction. Jenny, however, looked convinced. The wrinkle disappeared. She’d just opened her mouth to say something when Jasper barked, “And speak of the devil!” Jasper’s smile stretched, her eyes opened slightly. She looked hopeful. Peridot’s heart felt sticky and heavy with guilt.

And then Lapis appeared, coming out from the shadows next to Pearl’s office. As she approached, she smiled back. Peridot couldn’t tell if Lapis was looking directly at Jasper or not. “Hey, guys,” she muttered.

“You found us!” Jasper laughed, scooching away from Amethyst to make room for Lapis in the circle. Lapis, however, planted herself between Jenny and Buck—one person in between her and Peridot, two people in between her and Jasper. A very strategic placement, in Peridot’s opinion. She was certain Jasper and Amethyst had noticed it too. Even Jenny seemed to have picked up on it, if the fleeting reappearance of the wrinkle between her eyebrows was any indication.

But Lapis continued on as if nothing had happened. “Yeah, Sadie told me a couple of her kids saw you creeping around the side of the Temple. I figured this is where you guys were heading off to.”

“Sadie’s kids saw us?” Peridot, without thinking, burst out. On top of her already towering level of anxiety, the last thing she needed was to get busted by Pearl.

Lapis met her eyes and kept hold of them for a moment. Then she averted her gaze to the others as she replied, “Yeah. But Sadie says we’re safe.”

“Not if her campers are a bunch of narcs,” Amethyst groaned.

Lapis’s mouth twitched and her smile spread a little wider. “She told me she’d keep an eye on Pearl. I trust her.”

Sour Cream, who still had the bottle of whiskey, held it aloft as he toasted, “To Saint Sadie.” He drank and passed to Jenny, who drank and passed to Lapis. She drank. When the bottle came back around, and Buck automatically moved to pass the bottle in front of Peridot to hand it off to Amethyst, Peridot intercepted it. She took a long drag. Her eyes were stinging by the time she passed it to Amethyst at last.

“That’s my girl,” she heard Jasper sigh.

\---

Peridot could no longer see straight after an hour. But what she lacked in ability to see, she gained in ability to have fun. Who cared that she had fallen for and had sex with her best friend’s girlfriend and that her world was slowing collapsing in on her like a dying star? She was too busy trying to keep a convincing poker face as she peppered a couple of blades of grass in front of her. “I’m’ll in,” she muttered around pursed lips.

Buck was way better at this than she was. Behind his sunglasses—which, why was she just now noticing that he kept those on no matter what time of day it was, isn’t that insane—his expression was unreadable. “I see your grass pile,” he murmured, no hint of excitement in his voice, “and I raise you a pebble.” He picked up the smallest of rocks, stuck between the treading of his sneakers. He placed it on the pile.

Lapis, likewise expressionless, placed her playing cards face down on the dirt before her. “I fold.”

Jenny, meanwhile, was losing it. Tears streamed down her face as she pounded the earth lightly with her fists. She threw her cards down, too. “Stakes are too damn high,” she wheezed between wracking, sob-like convulsions.

On the pile already was a handful of small rocks, blades of grass torn up by their roots, two cigarette butts, and a gum wrapper. Sour Cream added his finished piece of chewed gum. Jasper added the empty whiskey bottle.

“Empty,” she said around a belch. Her eyelids drooped.

“Another?” Buck asked.

Then Jasper perked up. “Another,” she conceded with a nod.

Buck stood on uncertain feet, mumbled a quick, “Be right back,” and disappeared into the forest behind the art building.

Amethyst placed the plastic tip from the end of her shoelace onto the pile before them. Then she placed her cards face up on the ground. Three jacks. “What’d’you got?” she asked, leaning on one hand to peer at Peridot’s cards.

Peridot grinned mischievously before throwing them on the ground. “Full house!” she cheered, punching a fist in the air.

After a moment, Amethyst said, “Uh, Peri. You ain’t got no full house.”

“What?” Peridot pushed herself forward to peer at her cards. “How?”

“You got two tens, two eights, and a three.”

“ _No_ , that’s three eights.”

“ _No,_ ” Amethyst scolded, pointing at one of the cards. “ _That’s_ a three.”

Peridot squinted. The sides of what she thought was a red number eight opened. “Oh.”

Jenny officially lost it. She was laugh-crying into her hands, and Amethyst groaned good-naturedly. “ _Amateur_.”

Jasper started collecting the cards. She looked at the cards she collected from Buck’s empty spot—“No good,” she announced—and then reached for the ones held between Sour Cream’s fingers. He’d fallen asleep sitting up. “Son of a bitch got a royal flush,” Jasper said.

Tears still streaming down her face, Jenny pinched a bit of grass from the pile of winnings between them. She sprinkled them over Sour Cream’s white blond hair. “The king,” she hiccupped, leaning forward to kiss his cheek.

Jasper crawled over to Buck’s empty spot then, settling herself next to Lapis and shifting towards her so that she pressed her upper body against her. Lapis didn’t protest, but she did lean her head away from Jasper’s chest the smallest amount. Peridot couldn’t concentrate on how this made her feel.

“Well, baby,” Jasper moaned as she stretched her arm over Lapis’s shoulder, “let’s say after this next bottle, we take a moonlit stroll through the campground. I’ll show you which logs I can lift over my head.”

Lapis laughed a bit, though to Peridot it sounded less than genuine. Or maybe she was projecting. Who knew? Peridot could barely manage uncrossing her eyes, perhaps her perceptiveness was not at its peak just then. “I don’t think so,” Lapis sighed, lightly patting Jasper’s thigh.

“C’mon,” Jasper growled teasingly, pulling Lapis further into herself as she grinned lasciviously. “I’ll protect you from whatever goes bump in the night. Although—” Jasper pressed her mouth to Lapis’s ear, and whispered something.

At that, Lapis pushed against Jasper’s bicep. “You’ve had a bit too much to drink, I think.”

“Or,” Jasper said around her smile, “ _you_ haven’t had _enough_.”

“I’ve had enough of _you_ , though,” Lapis replied. The way she said it didn’t sound particularly cold; anyone else would have taken it as a joke. But it was said without a smile. Jenny was too busy laughing at something Amethyst was doing to notice anything, and Amethyst was likewise preoccupied doing something that was making Jenny laugh. Jasper’s smile fell away, though. Lapis crossed her arms. Peridot frowned at the pair of them—though neither of them noticed that.

Just then, there was a shout from the distance, coming up from the other side of the field, around the corner behind the Temple. “ _Wait, Pearl, I forgot to ask_ —”

“Why are you screaming?” came another, more muffled voice.

“ _Oh, well, my ears are ringing and I wanted to ask you, Pearl, since we’re headed to your office—the office of Pearl—anyway—_ ”

“Sadie,” the other voice said—significantly less muffled now. “Go to the bathroom and grab a Q-tip, now really—”

But the rest of the sentence was lost on them. The incoming arrival had finally seeped through their muddled brains, and moving as a single entity they were all on their feet—except for Sour Cream, who still dozed peacefully where he sat.

As Jenny shook him awake, Lapis buried her cigarette butts in the dirt with her shoe. Jasper swiped the empty whiskey bottle and reached out for Lapis, who, without a word turned the other direction—towards the other side of the Temple, opposite from where Sadie and Pearl were approaching. There wasn’t time for Peridot to catch Jasper’s reaction to this before Jasper took off for herself in the other direction, racing behind Jenny and Sour Cream toward the thicket of trees closest to them.

“Come _on_ ,” Amethyst groaned, pulling on Peridot’s arm. Peridot obeyed, following Amethyst—and also Lapis—at a dead sprint around the other side of the Temple.

The three of them just turned a corner to move between the Temple and the bathroom when Peridot’s foot caught on something. She hadn’t seen whatever it was in the combination of her panic and the night’s darkness, and it took her tumbling to the ground before her inhibited brain really realized what was happening.

“ _Peridot,_ ” Amethyst and Lapis said simultaneously, both halting in their tracks to turn back and help her.

“I’m okay!” Peridot assured them, and pressed her hands into the dirt to push herself up. But just as soon as she brought up her right leg to stand, the world fell out from beneath her once more. Having a stomach full of whiskey finally caught up with her, and she felt as if the ground was tilting, trying to force her to slide right off of it.

“Oh,” Lapis sighed, crouching in front of Peridot. “Your leg was pulled off.”

Peridot reached behind herself and, upon feeling the exposed tip of her shin, found that Lapis was correct. She didn’t have time to say anything before she felt Lapis’s gentle hand grip her shoulder to steady her. Peridot’s mouth went dry.

But just as soon as the hand was there, it was gone. Then Amethyst swam into Peridot’s line of vision. But Amethyst wasn’t looking at her—she was scowling at Lapis. “She’s _fine_ ,” Amethyst seethed, placing her own hand where Lapis’s had just been and getting Peridot to sit upright.

Lapis looked scandalized. “I was just trying to _help_ ,” she hissed, clearly struggling to keep her voice at a whisper. “What’s _your_ problem?”

Amethyst looked like she was getting ready to say something, but then she deflated. “Sorry,” she muttered, turning her face to look anywhere but at Lapis. “I just got worried is all.”

Lapis didn’t respond. Peridot tried to grin. “I’m okay,” she repeated. “I don’t think Pearl even noticed we were there, so we don’t have to run anymore. Just, uh—” She felt heat spread up her neck and over her cheeks. “Could somebody pass me my foot?”

Amethyst chuckled a little at that. Lapis looked at Amethyst and said, “Well, _may_ I?”

Rolling her eyes, Amethyst replied, “You do you. I don’t know how to work those, so it’s probably best if I keep my hands off of them.”

Lapis, swooping down to pick up the abandoned prosthetic and handing it back to Peridot, said, “What makes you think I _do_?”

And then Amethyst opened her mouth to respond. But then she closed it.

Lapis’s eyebrow crept further up her forehead. She kept her gaze sternly fixed on Amethyst as her expression grew more focused, serious. “What makes you think I know how to work Peridot’s legs, Amethyst?” she repeated.

Peridot busied herself with reattaching her leg. She gulped.

Amethyst finally replied. “Nothing.” She swept her hair behind her shoulder in a casual way—or, at least, in a way that Peridot was sure was meant to portray casualness. “I was just trying to say that I’m a particular brand of disaster. You know me. Heh.”

Then Amethyst stood from her position crouched in front of Peridot, holding out her hands so that she could pull Peridot up to a standing position too. The three of them moved on from behind the bathroom. Not another word was said as Peridot and Amethyst broke away, ascending the stairs of Pink Cabin. Amethyst opened the door, and just as Peridot stepped through she glanced over at Lapis’s retreating form, on its way towards the lake and the staff lodging.

Lapis’s eyes were fleetingly narrowed in her direction. And then she was gone.

\---

When the wake up call sounded on Tuesday morning, Peridot was already awake. Her tablet was on her lap, and a word document was open.

“Log date 062315.”

That’s all she accomplished in writing in the hour since she gave up any last effort in trying to achieve a restful night’s sleep.

After Pearl’s morning greeting, Amethyst sidled over to Peridot’s bunk. As she twisted her hair into a knot on top of her head, wrapping her pink bandana around it, Amethyst nodded. “Did you go last night?”

Peridot closed the word document and turned her tablet off, shoving it under her pillow. “I wasn’t invited. But no. I wouldn’t have anyway.”

“Thirty-two more nights then,” Amethyst sighed with a smirk. But she didn’t immediately walk away to follow the rest of the campers out the door. Instead, she glanced over her shoulder and watched until the door shut after the last kid, leaving her and Peridot alone. “Listen, I’m sorry if—you know—I made last night a little awkward.”

At this, Peridot couldn’t suppress a small grin. “I don’t think any of the awkwardness could be rightfully blamed on you.”

Amethyst returned the grin. “Yeah, well,” she sighed again, scratching the back of her neck. “Still. I hope I didn’t tip L off or anything. About me knowing, you know. M’still sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Peridot fastened on her legs and stood, still smiling. “Let’s just get on with it.”

Any hopes that Peridot had in the back of her mind that she would be able to push off seeing Lapis were dashed when, upon entering the Temple, she immediately noticed a blue head sitting at its rightful spot at the table. Peridot and Amethyst collected their food trays and then sat at their own seats. Peridot quietly greeted everyone and, before she could help herself, glanced at Lapis as well. She’d been anticipating that Lapis would spend another day avoiding eye contact.

She was wrong, though. Lapis stared straight back at her, eyes still narrowed—as if her expression from last night had remained frozen on her face ever since. Peridot returned the stare a moment too long, and watched as Lapis’s eyes flicked momentarily to appraise Amethyst before settling back on Peridot. At this, Peridot finally dropped her gaze, and didn’t utter another word until breakfast was over.

As the Blue and Pink campers made their way to the lake, Lapis kept up her stony silence. Peridot watched as Lapis opened the buckets containing the snorkeling equipment and gestured at them for the kids to take their pick. Every camper seemed to pick up on Lapis’s uncharacteristic shift in attitude, so they remained quite subdued as they collected goggles, snorkels, and flippers. But as soon as they hit the water, the kids played without inhibition, any tension melted away.

At least, any tension on the kids’ side melted away. Peridot’s chest felt like it was tightening with every passing second. Amethyst was on the edge of the pier, observing her as she slipped into a pair of flippers. But then Peridot gulped and nodded at her. Amethyst clearly took this as Peridot intended—as permission to go ahead, that Peridot would be fine on her own—and, with a departing thumbs up, jumped into the lake. Sour Cream followed her lead. The two splashed their way to the middle of the lake, joining up with Connie and Steven, who were already in the midst of a mouth-water-canon war with their snorkels.

Then Lapis and Peridot were alone again. Without speaking, Peridot walked to the edge of the dock and settled herself down. She kept her eyes trained on the water, waiting with increasingly surmounting anxiety for Lapis to sit with her.

“Did you tell her?”

Peridot whipped around to look at Lapis, who was still standing at the other end of the dock, arms crossed.

Peridot swallowed again. Her throat was extraordinarily dry. “Did I tell who what?” she asked.

Lapis finally walked towards her, sitting herself on the pier with her legs dangling above the water. Her face was stern, and she insisted on staring Peridot in the eye. “You know who and what. Did you tell her?”

Peridot struggled to keep eye contact. She remembered hearing once that eye contact was important to good lying. “If you mean Amethyst, no, I didn’t tell her a thing.”

Lapis’s eyes narrowed impossibly more, examining her. “You’re lying.”

“I am _not!_ ” Peridot’s jaw dropped, incensed. (Of course, she _was_ lying. But still.)

“Fine,” Lapis said, eyes still sharply scrutinizing her. “But assuming you’re telling the truth, she’s got to know somehow.”

“She _doesn’t_ ,” Peridot groaned. Her eyes flicked over the water to ensure that no one was close enough to overhear them. “You’re paranoid. Your guilty conscience finally getting to you?”

Immediately, Peridot regretted saying that. It wasn’t like she was any better. And it wasn’t like Lapis was actually wrong. She chanced a glance at Lapis, who was still staring at her, but in a much more deflated fashion. Her eyes weren’t as narrow. She looked hurt.

“I’m sorry,” Peridot mumbled, looking out over the water again.

“That’s not _fair_ , Peridot,” Lapis muttered back.

But the iciness in Lapis’s voice rubbed Peridot the wrong way. She faced her once more. “ _That’s_ not fair?”

Lapis just stared resolutely back at her.

That just served to make Peridot even madder. “Do you want to know what’s not _fair_ , Lazuli? Your _being here_ isn’t fair!” She’d started to yell, so she took a deep breath and dropped her voice to a hissing whisper. “You shouldn’t have kissed me the other day. Or the day before that. You shouldn’t have convinced me—” she dropped her voice even lower in volume. “—to have _sex_ with you. You should’ve just left me alone in the first place. You were Jasper’s girlfriend, I was Jasper’s best friend, and if you had just left well enough alone we wouldn’t be in this position! Jasper wouldn’t be so miserable. _I_ wouldn’t be so miserable. You should’ve just stayed home instead of coming here and ruining my life!”

Her last words hung in the air between them. Peridot was breathing heavily, and pushed her glasses further up the bridge of her nose. She hadn’t planned on snapping at Lapis. Even worse, she didn’t feel any better after having done so.

Lapis just kept staring at her. But after a moment, her face crumpled, and finally she looked away. Peridot looked away too. She didn’t look back at her even once before the lesson was over.

\---

Lapis was absent at lunch. Lapis was also absent from art class, when the room was filled with the cacophony of campers playing with instruments, singing, dancing—rehearsing for the talent show that would take place that Friday night. Lapis was also absent at dinner.

“Where’s L taking off to?” Jenny asked, her voice thick with concern. That wrinkle between the eyebrows appeared once more.

Even though the question had been clearly aimed at Peridot, Amethyst answered on her behalf. “No idea,” she said, shrugging her shoulders as she tore into her meal. “We lost track of her after swim.”

Jenny glanced down the table at Jasper. Peridot unwillingly followed her line of sight. Jasper dragged her fork around her plate half-heartedly, resting her mammoth head on her fist. Jenny sighed. “Something’s going on with those two.”

“Trouble in paradise?” Sour Cream asked, his voice revealing the slightest amount of unease.

Amethyst shrugged her shoulders again. Peridot didn’t answer.

No one even suggested hanging out after dinner was finished. Jenny, Sour Cream, and Buck bid them good night as they stopped at Sadie’s table—presumably to thank her for sounding the alarm the night before. Amethyst and Peridot continued on.

Once outside, Amethyst stopped at the bonfire. “You wanna stay out a little bit?”

“No,” Peridot answered simply. “I just want to go to bed.”

Amethyst nodded. Then, in a whisper, “What happened at swim, huh?”

Peridot shook her head back and forth. “I’ll tell you later.”

“Okay. I’m gonna hang out here a bit. Just.” Amethyst smiled a little, in a way Peridot was sure was intended to be reassuring. “Let me know if you need anything, Peri.”

Peridot nodded, and then went up the Pink Cabin steps without another word. She crawled into bed, shoved off her prostheses, and placed her glasses gingerly on the windowsill—where her gloves had been resting since Lapis gave them back after Beach Day. Then she shifted herself under the covers, closed her eyes, and tried to rest.

But just as that hadn’t worked the last couple of nights, it didn’t work that night either. Peridot lay there completely awake as campers gradually filed in. She was completely awake even when Amethyst—long after the last camper had gone to bed—shuffled into the room and up into her bunk. Peridot even lay completely awake for an hour after that.

She was downright _sick_ with guilt—about _everything_. About lying to everyone, about being the cause of her best friend’s anguish, and about what she’d said to Lapis earlier that day.

It wasn’t fair of her to snap at Lapis the way she did. Fairness be damned, perhaps, but still. Despite what Peridot had said, she knew it wasn’t entirely Lapis’s fault that they were at the point at which they were.

Another half hour slipped by. The room felt stuffy, too hot. Peridot kicked off her covers, which did nothing to relieve her discomfort. She cracked open her window for some air. That helped a bit, but it still wasn’t enough. So, before she thought twice about it, Peridot swung her knees over the side of her bed and strapped on her legs. She reached behind herself to retrieve her glasses and, careful not to let the bedframe groan, slowly stood up. She crept past the sleeping bodies of campers. At Amethyst’s bunk, she paused for a moment. She considered waking her up to talk. But Amethyst was deeply asleep, her mouth wide open in a snore and her hand twitching with whatever dream she was experiencing.

So Peridot set off alone. She’d only originally intended to step out onto the porch for fresh air. But her legs felt restless and—before she fully realized what she was doing—she snuck quietly down the stairs and onto the path, which she followed behind Pink Cabin and out towards the lake.

 _She’s going to be at the dock_ , the voice inside her head whispered. It was only at that moment that Peridot realized where her autopilot was taking her. She pondered whether she should turn back.

No, she reasoned. First, she probably _isn’t_ there. Second, even if she _is_ , she should talk to her anyway. Peridot needed to apologize, even if it ended up solving nothing. She had to try. She continued on.

When Peridot reached the end of the path and saw the body sitting at the end of the dock, she released a quavering breath. _Option two, then._ She inhaled a gulp of air, and then stepped forward.

“Lapis.”

Lapis whipped herself around at the sound of Peridot’s voice. She looked more than surprised—she looked like a cornered animal. “Peridot,” she whispered, “What are you _doing_ here?”

Peridot didn’t answer until she’d walked down the length of the pier and settled herself next to Lapis. “I was just going to a walk.”

“Down _here?_ ” Lapis asked warily, her eyes slanting in suspicion.

“Yeah, well. It’s nice down here.” They were quiet then for a moment. Lapis didn’t say anything more, just continued eyeing Peridot doubtfully. After a minute, Peridot continued, “I guess—I kind of hoped you’d be here, I guess. I wanted to say—” She swallowed. “I wanted to apologize. For earlier today. That _really_ , uh. It wasn’t fair of me.”

Lapis visibly relaxed, though her eyes remained narrowed. “Oh. Well.”

Silence again. “I want you to know,” Peridot continued anew after a few heavy seconds, “that I don’t actually blame you for anything. I was just frustrated, and scared.” Something that Lapis had told her a few days ago echoed in her mind. “‘It takes two to tango,’ right?”

Lapis smiled a little. “Right,” she said. A beat, then, “I’m sorry too. I assume this has been about as hard on you as it’s been on me. It wasn’t right of me to—to _toy_ with that.”

“Right,” Peridot replied.

The silence that pressed in on them then was comfortable. All was said that needed to be said—for now, at least. Maybe when camp would draw to a close, Peridot mused, they would discuss their options. Whether to tell Jasper, for one. Or, how to define what they were, and what they’d be.

 _What we’d be. Huh._ For the last couple days, Peridot had only concerned herself with the most pressing of issues. Who suspected them, what to do to avoid detection, what to do to alleviate the gut-wrenching pang of guilt that’s been plaguing her for days. Just then, for the first time in a while, Peridot considered what would happen when everything else was taken care of.

Would she want to be with Lapis? Like, really _be_ with her? Peridot glanced over at Lapis, considering this thought for a moment. Could they pursue a relationship, one without the necessity of sneaking around? Without hurting Jasper (to the best of their ability at least)?

There was the slightest breeze just then, which picked up Lapis’s bangs from her forehead. Lapis absentmindedly brought up her hand to pull them back down, to tuck them behind her ear.

For the first time in a couple of days, Peridot’s chest met with that metaphorical bag of bricks. They met so hard that she was surprised that she couldn’t hear an actual _whoomp_ of collision in real life.

Lapis turned her head towards her at that moment. Their eyes met. After a couple of seconds, Lapis asked, “What?”

And then Peridot pounced, crashing their lips together so quickly that Lapis lightly bit her in surprise. Peridot didn’t care. She brought her hands up to cradle Lapis’s head as she kissed her and— _finally_ —Lapis melted into it, kissing her back. Lapis rested her own hands on Peridot’s shoulders, clinging to them with a vicelike grip.

Between kisses, Lapis pulled back briefly to ask, “What are we doing?”

Peridot, also between kisses, replied, “No idea.”

They embraced each other for what seemed like eons, but what simultaneously felt like only a millisecond. Eventually, Lapis pushed gently against Peridot’s shoulders. She pulled away just enough so that their lips were no longer touching, but close enough still to press their foreheads together. She smiled, and in a teasing voice said, “This is a bad idea.”

“Absolutely atrocious,” Peridot agreed before pressing her forehead further into Lapis’s.

Lapis laughed, and then closed her eyes. Peridot examined the exquisiteness of her eyebrows, the beauty of her eyelashes resting against her cheeks.

“What are you doing?” Peridot asked.

Lapis’s smile widened. “Trying to tell what you’re thinking.” After a moment, she reopened her eyes. “I can’t tell. What are you thinking?”

This struck Peridot as a heavy question—and also a question that was difficult to answer. “I’m thinking—” she started.

Then she gulped down some air.

And then she tried again, keeping her eyes trained on Lapis’s. “I’m thinking I might want to be with you. Not just here, but in the future one day. But I want to know what you’re thinking, too. So, tell me what you want from me. And whatever that is—” She closed her eyes. “I’ll do it.”

Peridot thought that must’ve been the most honest thing she’d said since this whole debacle began. Upon feeling Lapis’s forehead peel away from her own, Peridot reopened her eyes. Lapis was smiling that easy, soft, beautiful smile. Peridot's heart expanded in her chest.

But then Lapis stood up. And before Peridot could fully comprehend what was happening, Lapis was taking off her shirt.

“I want you—” She bent down to whisper into Peridot’s ear. “—to swim with me.”

Peridot balked. “That’s not what I was asking you!”

Lapis giggled, tearing her shorts off and stepping out of them. Her hands went behind herself to unclip her bra, and soon that was on the dock too. “That’s too bad. Because that’s what I want.”

Peridot was too distracted by Lapis’s new nudeness to really listen to her answer. But then Lapis’s underwear joined the rest of her clothes on the deck and, before Peridot could protest, she swan dived into the lake.

Lapis resurfaced just as Peridot had removed her glasses to wipe them dry on her shirt. “Come on, Per,” she half-whispered, half-laughed.

Remaining where she sat, though, Peridot hissed, “Are you _insane?_ ”

Still treading water, Lapis shrugged. “Maybe.” And then she dipped her mouth below the surface, instantly bringing it back up to spit water at Peridot.

Peridot, despite the craziness of the situation, couldn’t help laughing. Once calm again, she frowned slightly. “Uh, I really don’t know if I can.” She gestured with her chin down at her feet.

“Have you ever tried?” Lapis asked.

“No.”

“Then it’s worth a shot.” Lapis beamed at her. “I’ll be here to catch you.”

Despite her reservations about the whole idea, Peridot decided that there wasn’t a real point in arguing. (Come on, Lapis was just swimming there, naked, waiting for her. Peridot might not have been reckless, but she also wasn’t an idiot.) So she stripped herself of her shirt and her sports bra. She bent over to unlatch and remove her prosthetics, crossing them carefully over the pile of clothes. And then she shifted to remove her boxers—the only pair of pants she’d worn to bed—from beneath her, soon setting them aside too.

When Lapis grinned up at her and ordered her to jump, she didn’t think twice. She just jumped.

The water was cold—not like ice, but certainly beyond Peridot’s comfort level. Upon crashing through the surface, she yelped. Immediately, one of Lapis’s arms went to hold her up, while the other hand pressed against Peridot’s mouth. Both of those were warm. Lapis shushed Peridot and, without any real malice in her voice, told her, “You’re going to blow our cover if you keep hollering like that.”

Peridot shook her head, and Lapis released her hand from her mouth.

“Okay,” Lapis continued at a whisper. “Swimming one-oh-one. Start kicking.”

Peridot did as she was told, kicking out her shins and swaying her arms side to side to try to stay afloat. In spite of the obvious danger she faced, she was laughing.

“I’m going to let go for a second, all right?” Lapis said. Before Peridot could say anything, Lapis’s grip disappeared.

For a second, Peridot’s head remained above water. But then it slowly started to dip, and Peridot was completely submerged by the time Lapis pulled her back up.

“Were you kicking?”

“ _I was kicking!_ ”

“Okay, okay, shhh. Baby steps. You’re doing great.”

They tread water together for a while, spinning in delicate circles.

“It’s like dance lessons all over again,” Lapis sighed.

And then Peridot was kissing her once more. Lapis pushed Peridot’s back against one of the dock’s pillars. It was slimy and cold, but Peridot couldn’t have cared less.

Lapis’s mouth roamed, as did one of her hands. Peridot stretched to push herself even harder into the points where their skin met. She clung to Lapis’s left bicep, which rippled with the effort of pinning Peridot to the pillar.

Peridot, before she could stop herself, let out a moan.

Lapis shushed her, and then reconnected her lips to the base of Peridot’s throat.

A voice said, “Who’s there?”

And then silence, save for the amplified sound of water slapping against the dock. Peridot and Lapis stared at each other, both of them holding their breaths, neither one of them daring to move. Peridot’s heart was frozen.

After a moment, the voice rang out again. “Lapis. Peridot. I know you’re there. I suggest that you come on out of the lake now, so that we can chat.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peridot and Lapis confront a new facet to their tangled web. Then things start to get back to normal. Then Peridot slips up once more.

Peridot felt herself slipping— _literally_ slipping down the pillar against which she was pinned. Or, rather, where she _used_ to be pinned; Lapis’s grip had slackened significantly. Whereas before she couldn’t have cared less, now Peridot’s skin crawled with every millimeter the slimy wood crept up her spine.

Neither of them had yet to say a word. Neither of them had even breathed since they first heard the voice call out.

Just before Peridot could build up the courage to whisper, _What should we do?_ , the voice called out once more.

“Peridot, I know you can’t go far without your prostheses. And they’re here on the deck. So come on now. I’m not leaving until I can speak with you both.”

The accent left no question as to who it was. But before Peridot could even move, she saw Lapis’s mouth twitch, and heard the slightest breath exhale the name, “Garnet.”

“Yup,” said Garnet from above them. At that, both Peridot and Lapis flinched. Peridot couldn’t imagine how it was possible that Garnet heard them. But, regardless, Garnet continued, “All right. I’m going to turn around so that you can get out of the water and get dressed. Then, we’re going to chat.” Peridot heard the shuffling of feet. Then, “Let me know when you’re ready.”

There was no other option than to obey. Lapis gave Peridot one last desperate look before she nodded her head a nearly imperceptible amount. Then Lapis slid her hand—which was now freezing cold—down to her elbow before pulling it away.

“Leg up,” Lapis said in a low voice. She clasped her hands below the surface of the water, in which Peridot gingerly placed her knee. Then, grasping the edge of the dock, Peridot used all of her might (and Lapis’s leverage) to pull herself up. Once seated—and trying to not become distracted by the feeling of grainy wood grating against her bare backside—she turned to wordlessly offer a hand to Lapis. Lapis didn’t need it though; she had enough strength to gracefully climb next to her.

As Lapis began picking her way through the pile of clothes for her undergarments, Peridot pulled her boxers on right where she sat. Then her sports bra, then her shirt, and then finally her legs. The water that was still stuck to her body seeped into her clothes as she dressed.

When Lapis finished dressing, she sat next to Peridot. Lapis released another shaky breath as she reached to squeeze Peridot's thigh. The squeeze was a little harder than was comfortable, but Peridot yearned for it once Lapis pulled her hand away to place them in her own lap. Then, finally, Lapis swallowed hard and said, “Okay.”

Only then did Peridot dare to look at the young woman just ten feet in front of them. Garnet was already tall—like, Amazonian-level tall—but looking at her from Peridot’s position on the ground made her neck crick. It was like she was trying to see the top of a skyscraper from a sidewalk.

Garnet turned, her face behind her sunglasses completely unreadable. But as soon as she saw that Lapis and Peridot were sitting, Garnet stepped forward and sat too. She crossed her legs, and then she was still.

When Garnet didn’t say anything, Peridot gulped. Then she asked, “How’d you find us?”

“Is that important?” Garnet asked simply.

Peridot just tucked her chin into her chest. Though the breeze in the air was light, it cut through her damp clothes and made her shiver. (Or maybe it was the whole situation that made her shiver. Either way, Peridot was forced to clench her teeth to keep them from chattering.)

But Garnet answered anyway, “I was going for a jog when I heard a noise. I came over to investigate.”

“You were _jogging_?” Lapis asked in a sharper voice than Peridot was entirely sure was necessary. “So late at night?”

Garnet shrugged. “I often go for a run at night. It’s nice and cool. Clears my head.” From beneath Garnet’s sunglasses, her eyebrow cocked. “You might never have noticed before because you’re often gone yourself.”

Lapis didn’t say anything, but Peridot watched her mouth set into a tight line.

“I needn’t ask what was going on here tonight,” Garnet continued. “But for curiosity’s sake: How long has this _been_ going on?”

“That’s none of your business,” Lapis snapped. Peridot took in a sharp breath through puckered lips.

Garnet was quiet for a moment before she said, “You’re right. That’s _absolutely_ none of my business. I’m sorry.”

Then she was silent again. Lapis didn’t say anything else either, preferring to seethe silently as she glared down at her own lap.

It was Peridot who answered, “Beach Day was the first time. This was the second.”

Lapis whipped her head up to transfer her glare to Peridot.

Peridot crossed her arms—whether to conserve some warmth or to hold her quavering muscles still, she wasn’t sure—and rolled her eyes. “She answered our question. It seems only fair that we answer hers.”

Garnet nodded solemnly. “That seems like a good policy. Your turn then.”

Glancing first to Lapis to see if she wanted to ask a question—and based off the way she was staring determinately up at the sky, that didn’t seem to be the case—Peridot asked, voice quavering, “Are you going to tell?”

Garnet shook her head. “No.”

“Why not?”

It surprised Peridot to see Garnet smile a bit at that. “It’s my turn to ask a question, isn’t it?”

Peridot shrugged. “You can have two next time.”

“All right. I’m not planning on telling anyone because—as Lapis pointed out—it’s really none of my business. Your relationship is a personal matter and, as long as it doesn’t affect the goings-on at camp, I don’t see the need to involve myself any further.”

“Then _why_ bother us at all?” Lapis cut in. She was practically spitting with rage at that point. “What’s your _angle?_ ”

Garnet just stared at her. Lapis didn’t flinch. Eventually, Garnet said, “You owe me four answers then.”

Then she reached one hand up to pull her sunglasses off her face, and reached the other hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose. Once she dropped both hands—one still clutching the sunglasses—down to her lap, Garnet reopened her eyes. Peridot realized that she’d never seen her eyes before. They were perfectly normal. Kind. Tired.

Garnet continued, “I’m 'bothering' you for no other reason than my suspicion that you two could benefit from an unbiased third-party opinion. My ‘angle’ is to help.”

“As if we _asked_ for your opinion,” Lapis grumbled. “Some big, fat load of help you are.”

“ _Lapis_ ,” Peridot scolded, terror fading slightly and annoyance brimming over. She felt as if Garnet was acting moderately reasonable considering the circumstances. If anything was going to make her change her mind, however, it would be Lapis’s aggression. She was pushing their collective luck.

“My turn,” Garnet said. “Am I mistaken, Lapis, or are you still in a relationship with Jasper?”

Peridot’s goosebumps intensified. Lapis stared daggers at Garnet, taking a moment to take a deep breath before hissing out, “You’re not mistaken.”

Garnet nodded once. “Does Jasper have any idea what is going on between you two?”

“No,” Peridot answered, rubbing her arms up and down her biceps.

“Are you _going_ to tell her?”

Peridot hesitated with this question, but Lapis jumped in immediately, “ _No._ ”

“You should tell her.”

Lapis muttered, “That wasn’t a question.”

“You’re right. Excuse me.” Garnet cleared her throat. “You should tell her?”

Peridot, despite how tight her heart still felt, couldn’t help chuckling. Lapis, meanwhile, looked like she couldn’t decide who she’d rather strangle.

And then Garnet replaced her sunglasses on her face. As she stood, she said, “I’m not in much of an appropriate position to give you advice, though. Just—” She straightened up, stretching her arms to the trees above. “—be careful. This time it was me. Next time, it might not be.”

“Duly noted,” Peridot said with a nod. Lapis remained silent.

Garnet nodded once more in return. “I’ll leave you now. Lapis, will I see you in the cabin?”

Lapis didn’t answer, just remained sitting and wringing out her hands. Instead, Peridot supplied, “We’ll be done soon.”

“Good night, then.” And, without another word, Garnet retreated up the path.

As soon as she had gone, Lapis stood abruptly. Peridot thought for a moment that she was trying to run after Garnet—but she wasn’t. She’d just begun to pace, back and forth and back and forth across the length of the dock. Peridot remained where she sat, observing her.

Eventually, Lapis halted in her path right in front of Peridot. Her hands were balled into fists, pressing into her thighs. Her eyes were wild—with fury, with anxiety, Peridot wasn’t certain.

Peridot looked up at her expectantly. “What?”

“How are you _not freaking out?_ ” Lapis ran her hands through her own hair, pulling on it so hard that Peridot was surprised she hadn’t succeeded in tearing any out.

But then Peridot stopped focusing on Lapis for a moment to focus on herself instead. Her chest felt tight—but not so tight that she couldn’t breathe. Her heart wasn’t beating so violently that she could hear the blood pumping in her ears. “Huh. I’m not sure,” Peridot said.

Lapis continued pacing, her whispered voice picking up in its frenzy as she did so. “What are we going to _do?_ ”

“What do you mean?” Peridot stood up. The plastic of her legs irritated the still-wet skin under her knees.

“I _mean_ about _her!_ ”

“Jasper?” Peridot’s insides grew icy as she said the name.

“ _No_ —” Lapis gesticulated frantically towards the path that led to the main camp. “— _Garnet._ ”

Peridot felt one of her eyebrows shoot upward. “We don’t have to do anything—she said she wouldn’t tell.”

Lapis rolled her eyes, hard. “Like we can trust her.”

“We _can_ though.”

Lapis stopped in her tracks again, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “How do you know?”

“I _don’t_ ,” Peridot said, shaking her head. “But I don’t think we have a choice.”

Neither said anything for a moment as Lapis sighed and turned her face to the moon. Even now—despite every other imminently dooming circumstance—Peridot couldn’t ignore how pretty she looked, nearly ethereal in the low glow.

“This is getting out of control,” Lapis sighed.

“Not yet,” Peridot countered.

“But who else knows? How can we be _sure?_ ”

“No one else knows.” Peridot, without thinking, brought her hands up to rest them on Lapis’s shoulders. Lapis noticeably relaxed under her touch. “Just Garnet.”

Lapis hummed in a way that conveyed her uncertainty. Peridot gave her shoulders a light squeeze in response.

“And you and me,” Peridot added.

Lapis nodded. She was relatively calmer. No more pacing, at least. Her muscles were no longer so tense underneath Peridot’s fingers.

But then, after a moment, Peridot remembered. So, dropping her hand from Lapis’s shoulders, she tacked on quietly, “And Amethyst.”

Lapis’s head snapped towards Peridot so quickly that Peridot flinched. “ _What?_ You _told me—_ ”

“I know, I know—I’m _sorry._ ”

“And—this morning— _you_ —”

“I _know_.” Peridot replaced her hands on Lapis’s shoulders in an attempt to calm her once more. “It’s just that she _already knew_ —”

Lapis shoved Peridot’s hands away. “ _Already knew?_ Already knew _what?_ ”

“No—it’s—” Peridot placed her hands on her head instead. “I just mean that—I kind of—” She sighed. “I had told her about my feelings. For you, you know. Before anything happened. And then I _wasn’t_ planning on telling her once everything _had_ happened but—you know. I didn’t have anyone else to talk to. And I _really_ needed to talk to someone, Lapis.”

Lapis’s eyes were narrowed, her lips pursed. But, in an instant, they relaxed a bit. “Yeah,” Lapis said, “I get that.”

Peridot nodded.

“That’s _it_ though? That’s _all_ who knows _?_ ” Lapis pressed.

Peridot nodded again. “Amethyst won’t tell anyone. And I’m pretty sure neither will Garnet.”

“Okay.” Lapis kicked a bit at the dock with her sandal, and then she met Peridot’s eyes. “Walk me back, then?”

As soon as they stepped off the dock, Lapis reached out to pluck briefly at Peridot’s bracelet. Then, one or both of them—it was difficult to tell for sure—moved to interlace their fingers. They walked like that for a while in silence while Lapis’s previous question echoed in Peridot’s mind: _What are we going to do?_

All too soon, they came upon the bottom of the steps of the staff cabin. Peridot hadn’t realized how tightly they’d been grasping onto each other’s hands until Lapis’s grip released. But just as soon as she felt Lapis’s fingers begin to slip away, Peridot tightened her hold on them.

She knew what they were going to do.

Lapis didn’t ask what was wrong. She didn’t say anything, actually. But the way that she kept her eyes trained on the ground beneath her feet implied to Peridot that she had some idea of what was coming.

“We’ve got to end this,” she said, keeping her voice to the lowest whisper she could. Garnet—who must have been waiting just on the other side of the door—would perhaps overhear them. Plus, Lapis could hear her anyway, standing as close as she was. “For good, I mean.”

Peridot couldn’t bring herself to look into Lapis’s face. She couldn’t even bring herself to imagine what that must look like. So she settled on staring at the door in front of them.

“You and me,” Peridot continued, her throat constricting as she spoke. She swallowed. “I can’t predict a future in which this ends well. And as much as I—”

Peridot could sense that Lapis looked up at her then. She still couldn’t make herself look back.

“I can’t hurt Jasper like that. Ever. If we stop this— _us_ —and keep what we did a secret, then we can avoid that.”

“I don’t want to be with Jasper anymore,” Lapis mumbled. She sounded so far away, as if her arm wasn’t there grazing Peridot’s own.

“You don’t have to be.” Peridot focused on the handle of the cabin door, struggling to not remember what happened last time she was there. “But we can’t do anything else, even after.”

There was no argument. Seconds, minutes, maybe hours passed before Lapis sighed, “You’re right.”

Only then did Peridot finally look up at Lapis’s face. She’d initially been afraid that she’d find Lapis crying. Instead, Lapis wore a blank expression, completely devoid of emotion. She wasn’t sure then which one she would have preferred.

Then something shifted behind Lapis’s eyes. They softened. Lapis said, “I’m going to kiss you one last time. All right?”

And Peridot replied, “All right.”

The kiss was so much more chaste than many others they had shared. But, simultaneously, it held so much more in it—sorrow and regret and something else indescribable that made Peridot’s chest feel sticky and warm. It somehow conveyed more than could be said in words. Only once they parted did their hands finally peel apart.

“Bye, Peridot,” Lapis whispered as she ascended the cabin steps.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Peridot responded. The further Lapis was from her, the quicker that sticky warmth dissipated.

Lapis stopped just as her hand touched the door handle. She looked over her shoulder to say, “You know what I mean.”

And then she disappeared behind the door with a soft _click._

\---

Pearl’s wakeup call the next morning didn’t succeed in waking Peridot up. Strangely, Peridot was instead enjoying one of the deepest sleeps she’d experienced since camp started. Through intense mic feedback that reverberated throughout the cabin and through the varied bumbling of fifteen campers readying themselves for the day, she dozed on.

It was short-lived, though, as Amethyst soon took it upon herself to dive-bomb her. Amethyst’s elbow found its mark—that is, Peridot’s diaphragm—as she shouted, “ _Wake up, sleepyhead!_ ” And Peridot awoke with a start, gasping for breath as Amethyst crawled across her mattress to make herself comfortable.

For all intents and purposes, it was typical Wednesday morning at Camp Hidden Gem.

Kids were already filing out the door for breakfast. Meanwhile—as Peridot clambered to retrieve her glasses from the windowsill—Amethyst settled herself on Peridot’s pillow. “ _Geeze_ , Peri. You gotta air out your sheets today, they smell like a wet dog.”

When Peridot moved to situate herself on the other end of the mattress so as to pull on a pair of shorts, Amethyst abruptly pinched her nose between her thumb and forefinger.

“Uh, correction— _you_ smell like a wet dog. _Phew,_ what did you _do_ , jump in the lake?”

Peridot buttoned her shorts and leaned forward to retrieve one of her legs. “I did, actually,” she said as she strapped it on.

Amethyst rolled her eyes and dropped her hand. “Uh _huh,_ must’ve been fun. Did you meet Lapis out there too while you were at it?”

No other campers were left in the cabin—it was just the two of them. Still, Peridot didn’t say a word, resigning herself to concentrate on adjusting her prosthesis’s fit instead.

She felt Amethyst shift though. After a long moment, Amethyst hissed, “You _didn’t._ ”

Peridot still didn’t answer.

“Are you _kidding me_ right now? Your _streak!_ _Man_ , Peri, you could barely make it _one day—_ ”

At that point, as she finished tugging on her second leg, Peridot cut in, “We ended it. It’s done.”

When Amethyst didn’t immediately respond, Peridot seized the chance to tell her everything. About sneaking out, about meeting Lapis and jumping into the lake and being _stupid_. About Garnet. Even about telling Lapis that she’d told Amethyst about everything preceding last night’s events. And, finally, about breaking off whatever relationship she and Lapis had. With how rapidly she spoke, it only took Peridot thirty seconds to recount all of the previous night’s events.

It took about five times as long for Amethyst to recover. Finally snapping her jaw closed—it had hung slack the entire time Peridot spoke—she ran both hands through her hair. She looked both mortified and exhilarated. “Wow,” is all she managed to say.

Peridot nodded glumly. “That’s one word for it.”

“ _Wow,_ ” Amethyst repeated, shifting forward to sit next to Peridot, their hips nearly pressed together. “So. Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Peridot answered immediately. Then she scoffed. “No. I don’t know.”

“You will be,” Amethyst assured her, reaching forward to pat Peridot’s knee.

“I guess.”

Amethyst draped her arm across Peridot’s shoulders, squeezing her close in a hug. “You _will._ You did the right thing, Per Bear.”

Peridot smiled a little. She murmured, “Thanks, Amethyst.”

“Anytime, kid.” Then Amethyst got up, stretching her arms in front of herself. “Come on. I’ll meet you at breakfast. You go take a shower. I love you and all, and I’m sorry about all your Camp Pining Drama, but you reek.”

\---

When Peridot finally entered the Temple and didn’t immediately see Lapis at the breakfast table, she released the breath that she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Then she walked straight to her seat, deciding that—considering the knots in her stomach—food just didn’t sound appetizing right then. She squeezed into her usual spot between Sour Cream and Amethyst as the group greeted her warmly.

The empty spot across from her didn’t seem as daunting as it had done for the last couple of days. She was inwardly congratulating herself for the progress she’d made when she felt Amethyst’s elbow gently bump her ribcage. When Peridot turned to scold her, however, she found that Amethyst had lifted her finger to her lips in a shushing gesture.

Peridot glanced around the table to see if anyone else had noticed this—which they hadn’t, judging by Jenny’s, Buck’s, and Sour Cream’s pouring over an array of old CDs Sour Cream had brought to the table. Then she turned back to Amethyst and mouthed the word, _What?_

Amethyst discreetly pointed down the length of the table, and Peridot’s eyes followed.

 _There_ she was—Lapis—standing at the far end. She leant on the table with one hand, looking down with a wide smile, while the other hand was buried deep in Jasper’s hair. It looked like she was giving Jasper a head scratch right at the nape of her neck. Jasper, meanwhile, looked up at her like there was no one else in the room. Peridot could practically hear her purring. Her expression was so full affection and longing and _love_ —it was sickening.

“What is _that?_ ” Amethyst asked in a low whisper.

As soon as she could, Peridot tore her eyes away from the scene and directed them down at her lap. She tried to swallow down the feeling of bile rising in her throat.

\---

At sports class, Peridot sat in her usual spot on the sidelines. She watched silently as the Pink and Blue campers scattered themselves in a vague diamond formation around the field. Meanwhile, Garnet—her arms full of equipment—patrolled the perimeter of the shape, dropping Frisbees and announcing which base they represented in turn. She finally handed off a bat to Steven and a single baseball to one of the Blue Cabin boys. She announced, “Play ball,” and then she joined Peridot.

Peridot occupied herself by tearing grass out of the ground. She glanced up every once in a while when a camper would shout or when a group of them would cheer. One time she did this, she just caught Sour Cream finishing a slide into home as Connie flailed to tag him with the ball.

Only then did Garnet ask, “How are you, Peridot?”

Briefly startled, Peridot released the handful of grass she’d had in her hand. Then, with a deep breath, she answered, “Oh, uh. Fine. Thank you.”

Garnet didn’t say anything more. Peridot chanced looking up at her, but Garnet was staring off into the distance. She didn’t look expectant or anything.

Still, Peridot found herself saying, “We ended it. Last night, right after you left.”

She suspected that Garnet wouldn’t need any further explanation. This suspicion was confirmed when Garnet merely nodded. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Peridot let out a quick, mirthless chuckle. “Yeah, well.”

Then Garnet turned her face to her. Although Peridot couldn’t see her eyes behind her sunglasses, she knew that Garnet was looking directly into her own as she said, “Lapis is dealing with the situation in her own way. It might be difficult for you to watch, but know that you made the right decision. And also know that you’re not hurting any worse than she is.”

Well, _that_ certainly took Peridot aback. She felt her jaw drop as she struggled to find something—anything—to say in response. How was it that Garnet could know exactly what she needed to hear?

Before Peridot could say anything, Garnet continued, “I saw them at breakfast, too. And I saw you.” Garnet shrugged as she turned back to face the field. “I see a lot more than you might assume.”

Peridot could only eye her warily. She’d known Garnet for years. She’d been a fixture at camp in one way or another for as long Peridot could remember. Yet, she realized it was only in the last twelve hours that Peridot heard Garnet speak more than she arguably had in the entire time they’d known each other. And, as it turned out, Garnet had a lot of interesting things to say.

By the end of class—and despite any reservations she might have had about Garnet’s unsettling omniscience—Peridot mentally filed Garnet away as an ally worth exploring for future reference.

\---

Lapis rejoined the group at their proper end of the table at lunch. And she acted completely normal, complete with rapt attention to the conversation and semi-frequent remarks and jokes. Peridot wasn’t sure how she felt about this. On the one hand, it helped to alleviate the near-constant state of panic with which Peridot had become familiar over the last week. If Lapis acted normal, no one would become suspicious, which meant that no one else would become privy to their previous indiscretions.

On the other hand, Peridot still felt as if someone was whacking her chest with a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire.

She mused internally that sleeping with one’s best friend’s girlfriend elicited quite the roller coaster of emotions.

Nature class, then dinner. By all accounts, it seemed as if—despite Peridot’s inner anguish—everything was back to normal. Or, rather, as normal as could be expected given the circumstances.

Peridot ultimately decided it would be best to just go along with it, and joined the rest of the group around the campfire later that night. Eventually Jasper met up with them. But instead of cozying up next to Lapis on the log closest to the flame, Jasper sidled up to Peridot.

“Hey, Per,” she greeted with a grin, plucking a toasted marshmallow from the end of the unbent coat hanger in Peridot’s fist. Popping it into her mouth, Jasper mumbled, “I got a favor to ask you.”

“Okay,” Peridot said, trying to keep the wariness from her voice.

Jasper’s eyes quickly surveyed the scene around them, and then she ducked her head low to whisper, “You up for a little fun?”

“That depends on your definition of ‘fun,’ I suppose,” Peridot replied.

With a chuckle, Jasper stood up again, tugging on Peridot’s shirt sleeve. “Follow me.”

Peridot obeyed, clumsily standing and handing off her marshmallow-toaster to Amethyst. Amethyst accepted it without question and dove back into her conversation with Sour Cream about the hundred different uses for glow sticks. As she followed Jasper away from the campfire, Peridot couldn’t help noticing a fleeting, anxious expression pass over Lapis’s face. It had disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, however, and Lapis returned to listening to Jenny just as Peridot turned away.

Jasper didn’t say anything until they had passed the Temple and were making their way up the path to Yellow Cabin. Then, she said, “Guess what I learned today.”

Instantly, Peridot felt herself pale. Her voice cracked a bit as she responded, “What?”

Jasper—who’d been walking a few steps ahead—turned to look back at Peridot. She wore a wicked grin. “There’s a stash hidden in Yellow Cabin.”

Peridot could have cried in relief. That is, until what Jasper told her had properly sunk in. “ _What?_ A stash of _what?_ ”

They arrived at the bottom of the porch steps, which Jasper climbed. “You _know_ a stash of what.”

“That’s not possible,” Peridot said as she followed Jasper up the steps and through the door. “How could it have gotten here?”

Jasper rolled her eyes. “The _drug fairy_ brought it in. _No,_ how do you think?” When Peridot didn’t reply immediately, Jasper stopped in the middle of the room and placed her fists on her hips. “Did you ever notice how Yellow Cabin always smelled kind of skunky?”

“I thought it was the skunks.”

“Nope. It was Yellow Diamond.”

Peridot’s jaw dropped. “You’re _kidding._ ”

Jasper was downright gleeful as she turned and headed to a bunk in the corner of the room—opposite the corner where Peridot used to sleep.

It suddenly occurred to Peridot that she hadn’t even stepped into Yellow Cabin since her reassignment, which was weeks ago. A sudden surge of nostalgia hit her, and it hit so hard her chest ached. The two of them had spent so much of their childhood in that exact spot—complaining about fellow campers and stupid activities, swapping trading cards, laughing until they had stitches in their sides.

This, of course, was lost on Jasper. She pointed to the opposite bunk and said, “You know how Jenny started as a counselor last year? At swim today, she told me that she overheard Yellow talking to another counselor once about hiding a bag of stuff under a floorboard beneath her bed.”

Peridot could see her now: their old counselor, Yellow Diamond, lounging on the bottom bunk with her legs curled underneath her, tapping on her cellphone even though those weren’t technically allowed at camp. The junior director before Pearl never had the guts to call her out on it, though. Yellow would shout out criticisms from her bed about any kid who deigned to cross her path—which was every kid, considering how they were forced to pass her bed to leave the cabin at all. All without once looking up from her phone.

“Yeah, but ‘a bag of stuff?’ Were those her exact words? How do you know it’s a _stash_ stash?” Peridot asked.

Jasper squatted to grab the bottom of the bunk’s frame. “Only one way to find out.” And then she lifted it, holding it up a foot above the floorboards. Jasper reached to press her toe over one, which wobbled a bit. “Jackpot. I think it’s this one. Check it out, Per.”

Without argument, Peridot crossed the room to settle on the ground next to Jasper. She used the tips of her fingernails to pry up the end of the plank that Jasper had indicated, and then peered inside the hollow it left.

“I’ll be damned,” Peridot muttered before she shoved her hand into the floor. A moment later, she pulled out a wrinkled paper bag.

“ _Yes!_ ”

“Okay, calm down before you drop this thing on me.” Peridot replaced the floorboard and stood up. As Jasper set down the bunk, Peridot opened the bag and examined its contents. “I can’t believe it. Yellow never struck me as the type. She was so—”

“Bitchy?” Jasper supplied.

“I was going to say ‘uptight.’”

Jasper chortled. “Can you imagine? That was the _mellow_ version of her.” She swiped the bag from Peridot’s hands and kissed it before she held it aloft. “To Mellow Yellow! C’mon, follow me.”

Peridot threw one last glance over her shoulder at her old bed before tailing Jasper out the door. Together, they rounded the corner of the cabin and stopped again at its back. The cabin itself stood between them and the path leading down to the main part of camp. On their other side stood thick, dark trees.

Jasper sat under the back window, and Peridot sat beside her. As Jasper tore off a piece of the paper bag, Peridot sighed. “It’s weird being back up here,” she said.

Shrugging, Jasper sprinkled some of the bag’s contents onto the paper she’d torn off, and then began to roll it up. “Ain’t any different. Still filled with a stone-cold pack of weirdos.” She shot her a smirk. “Including yours truly.”

“Still,” Peridot said, pulling her knees into her chest. After a moment, she asked, “How even are you planning on lighting that?”

Jasper licked the exposed edge of the rolled paper and massaged it down before pulling a cigarette lighter from her back pocket. “Borrowed one of Lapis’s,” she explained as she stuck one end of the joint into her mouth. Then she ignited the other end with a flick of her thumb, and inhaled.

Peridot was newly set on edge by the use of Lapis’s name. But she was still aware that reestablishing some sense of normalcy was essential. So, as a normal best friend would, Peridot pushed herself to ask, “How are you two, anyway?”

Choking a bit, Jasper pulled the joint away from her lips. “Actually,” she coughed, “we’re doing great.”

“Really?” Peridot felt her heart drop to the pit of her stomach. She forced a smile. “That’s great.”

“Yeah,” Jasper said, taking another drag. “I told you she’s been kind of off the last couple days. But today—I don’t know. It was like everything was back to normal.”

 _Back to normal._ Peridot wanted to scoff. But she controlled herself, choosing instead to change the subject. “Does that stuff expire?” she asked, waving vaguely in Jasper’s direction.

Jasper half-grimaced, half-grinned. “Tastes like it.” She held out her hand to Peridot. “Want any?”

Peridot couldn’t help chuckling. “I’ll pass, thanks. Melting my brain isn’t on the top of my to-do list this evening.”

“Suit yourself,” Jasper replied, taking another pull. With her free hand, she lightly pushed Peridot’s shoulder. “Nerd.”

Peridot’s laughter deepened as she used both hands to shove Jasper in return. “Meathead.”

A minute later, they heard the rustling of Yellow Cabin campers returning for bed. Jasper stood to stomp the butt of the joint out in the dirt beneath her, and then extended her hand to Peridot. Peridot accepted the extra leverage and stood too.

“You going to bed?” Peridot asked as they rounded the corner and approached the cabin steps.

“Might as well,” Jasper mumbled. Her head lolled a bit on her shoulders. “Pretty tired.”

“I’ll say,” Peridot said, eyeing Jasper mischievously. “Your eyes look abnormally red.”

“Shut up.”

Peridot turned to leave—but as soon as she did, Jasper spoke again.

“Hey, don’t be a stranger.” Jasper ran her hand through her hair, staring at the ground. “I miss you up here, you know.”

An eclectic mixture of emotions hit Peridot just then. Sadness, fondness, and just a touch of confidence that—despite everything else she’d been feeling over the last week—she’d made the right decision in breaking it off with Lapis.

Peridot smiled—a bit weakly, but Jasper wouldn’t notice—and said, “You’re high.”

Jasper chortled. “Shut _up._ G’night, Per.”

“Good night,” Peridot replied. And then she clumsily made her way back down the hill.

\---

At breakfast on Thursday morning, Peridot had resigned herself to accept whatever unpleasantries that would come her way.

The first of these included the finalization of Amethyst’s birthday plans. The next night—the night before Beach Day, which was Amethyst’s actual birthday—they’d follow Jenny’s proposal: sneak out, grab some pizza from her family’s business, and head over to the warehouse for a night of clubbing. That, of course, sounded torturous to Peridot, especially considering what all had happened the last time they made a visit there, and what all had resulted from it. But Amethyst seemed happy with the idea. And it _was_ her eighteenth birthday. And she had proven to be such an asset to Peridot’s mental health, so Peridot felt like she owed her. Thus, she swallowed any criticisms and nodded along in agreement instead.

The second unpleasantry occurred when, once their Friday night plans were cemented, Jenny turned to Lapis and asked, “I notice you and Jasper are acting like yourselves again. Did you guys get over a spat or something?”

Peridot felt her eye twitch a bit. Lapis didn’t miss a beat, though. She grinned sheepishly as she replied, “Oh, a little. I was still kind of mad about what happened at the rave—you know, with the guy?”

“And the punching?” Sour Cream offered.

“Right.” Lapis shrugged. “But we worked it out.”

Jenny continued the conversation, but Peridot missed out on it. She could hear the blood rushing in her ears, and was willing the warmth that was creeping up her neck to retreat. _This is good,_ she tried to convince herself. _If Jasper’s happy, you’re happy. That was the plan, remember?_ So she swallowed her tongue once more and contented herself to avoid eye contact with anyone surrounding her.

Subconsciously, Peridot’s gaze drifted from her breakfast plate to the far end of the table. _If Jasper’s happy, you’re happy_ , she reminded herself again.

But, wait. Jasper didn’t look that happy.

Unpleasantry number three.

Peridot could feel her eyes narrowing as she focused on the scene across from her. There was Garnet, staring straight ahead, fork suspended over her breakfast with no indication that she intended on moving it anywhere. And there was Pearl, whose lips were moving rapidly. As she spoke, Pearl waved her hand vaguely in Peridot’s own direction before pointing it at Jasper. Jasper, meanwhile, looked uncharacteristically attentive.

Her eyebrows were bunched together, her mouth slightly open. She mumbled something quickly to Pearl. And then Peridot watched as Jasper’s gaze drifted down the table. It landed on Lapis, and remained there for a moment. Jasper’s eyebrows furrowed even more. Her gaze flicked to Peridot.

Peridot, curiosity winning out over anxiety, mouthed the words, _What’s wrong?_

Jasper shook her head the tiniest amount—just enough that Peridot could barely catch the movement—and then turned her attention back to Pearl.

Peridot wished that she could hear what they were saying. And, as the Temple filled with the din of benches shifting and of the campers beginning to head to their morning classes, she also wished that she had time to talk to Jasper so that she could determine just what was going on. But before she knew it, Amethyst had pulled her up and was pushing her down the aisle between tables. So Peridot resigned herself to speak to Jasper later, and tried to put it from her mind until she could do so.

At the lake, Peridot settled herself in her familiar spot at the edge of the dock. Meanwhile, she tried to put from her mind what occurred at that spot just the other night. That, of course, was easier said than done—especially once Lapis sat beside her.

In silence, they watched the campers paddle around the water. Amethyst was again using her snorkel as a water cannon while demonstrating her advanced technique for Steven and Connie’s benefit. Sour Cream drifted lazily around on his back, as a couple of Blue campers tread water around him, chatting energetically.

“I feel like I owe you an explanation,” Lapis said suddenly.

Surprised, Peridot just as suddenly snapped her head towards Lapis. “An explanation?”

“For—” Lapis cut herself off as a handful of Pink and Blue campers splashed by the pier. When they had retreated once more, she started again, “For Jasper. For my behavior with Jasper, I mean.”

Peridot dropped her gaze into her lap. “Don’t.”

“I just—”

“Really, _don’t._ You don’t have to explain anything to me.”

Lapis’s lips settled into a tight line, and then she nodded. After a moment, she asked, “What’d you and Jasper get up to last night?”

Peridot sighed before saying, “Typical ne’er-do-well activities. You know, the usual.”

“The usual,” Lapis repeated. Her voice sounded a bit strained.

Peridot didn’t say anything in return.

After an extra moment, Lapis whispered, “I just want everything to go back to normal.”

“Yeah,” Peridot mumbled, staring out over the lake. “Me, too.”

They didn’t say anything more after that. Swim lesson finished, and kids tumbled onto the dock to towel off. Peridot stood and made her way towards the path. But just as Steven and Connie barreled past her, Peridot stopped in her tracks. She turned to look over her shoulder at Lapis, who was dropping equipment into the tubs that lined the deck.

“Hey, Lazuli,” she called out.

Lapis looked up.

“You going to art?”

Lapis smiled. It looked a little tight, and it didn’t entirely reach her eyes, but at least it was there. “Sure.”

\---

Peridot spent lunch on the outskirts of the conversation, per usual. While she half-listened to Amethyst regale the group with some anecdote from when Pearl was Pink Cabin counselor, she stared down the length of the table. Jasper stared back, but not at her. Instead, her gaze remained intently upon Lapis, periodically breaking only to glance briefly down at her food. On her face, she wore her unsettled expression from that morning.

Peridot spent most of art class worrying about this. But she wouldn’t say anything to Lapis about it. She couldn’t even if she wanted to, considering the fact that Sour Cream sat between them, uncharacteristically awake. Instead, Peridot occupied herself by nervously twisting the bracelet around her wrist, watching the campers practicing for the talent show that would take place the following night.

“You gotta put your shoulders into it,” Sour Cream advised from his spot on the counter. A few of his campers were haphazardly twirling drumsticks, rehearsing for the glow stick lightshow Sour Cream had choreographed for them. After a moment, Sour Cream pushed himself off his perch, mumbling, “Okay, I’ll show you one more time.”

Amethyst was across the room, back leant against the wall as she chatted with Pearl, who held her hand in front of her mouth to stifle a laugh at something Amethyst said. Connie tuned some worn out violin, while Steven plucked a couple of notes from the ukulele in his hands.

Under the cover of the class’s distraction and noise, this was the perfect opportunity to say something to Lapis, to mention Jasper’s off behavior and to try to dissect what it meant. But even then, Peridot didn’t say a word. No more scheming, she decided, and no more discussing Jasper behind her back.

In hindsight, Peridot would end up wishing that she _had_ said something.

Meanwhile, Lapis absentmindedly flipped a tambourine between her hands. “Tomorrow should be fun,” she said, raising her voice a bit to be heard over the hubbub.

Peridot tried to suppress rolling her eyes. “Oh yeah, it’ll be a _blast._ ”

Hindsight’s twenty-twenty, isn’t it?

\---

Dinner passed in a similar vein to lunch, with Peridot spending the time examining Jasper, who spent the time examining Lapis, who spent the time noticing nothing at all.

At the campfire after dinner, however, everything seemed perfectly normal. They sat as a group next to the blaze, arranged in their own circle. Jenny, Buck, and Sour Cream on one log faced away from the fire, with Amethyst, Peridot, Jasper, and Lapis on another faced towards them. Sour Cream discussed the playlist he was planning for the warehouse the next night. Amethyst gushed over her birthday plans, animatedly slapping Peridot’s knee whenever she thought of something that they absolutely _had_ to do in order to make the night perfect—like stagediving or skinny dipping or whatever other ludicrous thing.

Every so often, Peridot tossed a sideways glance to Jasper next to her. One time she did this, she caught Jasper smile as she whispered something into Lapis’s hair. Lapis was leaning her head against Jasper’s bulky chest, and Peridot saw Lapis reach up to whisper something back before she forced herself to look away once more.

A half hour after that, Lapis stood. “I’m calling it,” she said with a tired smile. “It’s time for bed. Good night, you guys.” As the rest of the group bid her good night, Lapis bent forward to plant a kiss on Jasper’s mouth. “See you tomorrow,” she said quietly to Jasper alone, complete with her signature soft smile. And then she was gone.

After a minute, Jasper stood, too. But Peridot somehow noticed a shift that was perhaps lost on everyone else. She saw that the perplexed expression Jasper had been wearing all day had made a sudden reappearance on her face.

“I’m hitting the hay, too,” Jasper grumbled, stretching out her arms a bit in front of herself. She said good night, the others said good night back, and then she began to make her way up the path to Yellow Cabin.

Without saying anything to the rest of the group, Peridot called out, “Jasper, wait up!”

And then she abruptly stood to follow her without a backwards glance. Jasper waited patiently as Peridot meticulously weaved through the maze of logs and campers. When Peridot finally reached her, she noticed Jasper methodically flexing and unflexing her hands.

Now was her moment. Staring up at her best friend, Peridot lowered her voice to ask, “Is there something going on?”

Jasper shrugged noncommittally. Her hands continued to flex and unflex. She stared out over Peridot’s head, into the forest behind Pink Cabin.

When she didn’t say anything more, Peridot picked up her hand to wave it in Jasper’s face. “Hey, blockhead. I’m talking to you. Down here.”

This succeeded in grabbing Jasper’s full attention. She looked hesitantly down at Peridot, her eyebrows scrunched together.

“What’s up with you, huh?” Peridot asked, making no effort to disguise the concern in her voice. After an extra second, she swallowed hard, and then continued, “Is there something going on with you and Lapis?”

At that, Jasper’s eyebrows slackened. Face completely devoid of tension, she just looked depressed. With a heavy sigh, Jasper muttered, “I don’t know, Per. I really don’t.”

Peridot ignored the sharp anxiety that crept up her spine. “What’s going on? Did something happen?”

Another shrug from Jasper, another glance towards the trees. Then Jasper looked back down at Peridot. “I’m not sure yet. But I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow. I just want to go to bed.”

“But Jasp—”

“I swear, Per, I’ll tell you tomorrow.” Her eyebrows furrowed once more. “I want to be sure.”

“‘Sure?’ Sure of what?”

Jasper just shook her head. “Tomorrow.” And then, without another word, she turned on her heel and retreated up the path to Yellow Cabin.

\---

“Sure of _what?_ ” Amethyst echoed Peridot’s question later that night. They sat together on Peridot’s bunk, speaking with their heads low to avoid being overheard. Of course, most of the campers were already asleep—this was apparent in the low light of the flashlight Peridot had propped on her windowsill. Still, one couldn’t be too careful.

“I have no idea,” Peridot hissed. She nervously massaged the ends of her shins as she surveyed the room once more.

“Like—” Amethyst lowered her voice impossibly more, her mouth barely moving as she whispered. “Do you think there’s any way—Do you think she _knows?_ About you and L?”

The idea immediately made Peridot’s heart stop. But after a moment, she replied, “I really don’t think so. She wasn’t acting any differently towards _me._ And you’d think she wouldn’t have any qualms about that.”

“Yeah,” Amethyst said, bobbing her head up and down in agreement. “I guess if she knew, you’d already be dead.”

Peridot—unsuccessfully—tried to suppress a smirk at that. “If only.”

Amethyst half-heartedly punched her shoulder. “Nah. I’m pretty glad you’re here.”

Returning the gesture, Peridot mumbled, “Wow, thanks.”

\---

Peridot and Amethyst didn’t manage to solve the mystery of what Jasper meant before they finally called it a night. And when Peridot woke the next morning, she resolved herself to wait for Jasper to make the first move. When Jasper was ready to talk, she’d talk.

But then Jasper wasn’t at breakfast, nor was she at lunch. This served to alarm Peridot more than anything else could. If Jasper wasn’t eating, then there was something seriously, _seriously_ amiss. The anxiety settled itself in Peridot’s chest, and grew with every passing minute. Throughout classes, Peridot busied herself by chewing her nails down to stubs. Then, when that was done, she chewed on her cuticles. By the time nature lesson finally let out, she was surprised to have any fingers left at all.

The campers didn’t immediately move as one to the Temple, however, like they did every other day. This time, they split. Some moved towards paths that would lead to the cabins, animatedly discussing costumes and props. Steven grabbed Connie’s hand and reminded her that they needed to pick their instruments up from the art building. Amethyst stretched her arms above her head and bumped her hip against Peridot’s. “Come on, let’s hit the tables before the rug rats get to the good stuff.”

The talent show would start in half an hour.

Peridot followed Amethyst across camp and into the Temple, against whose walls lined tables filled with food. Jenny’s grandmother hovered by one, putting finishing touches on a display of tacos.

“Dibs,” Amethyst said, and then she disappeared from Peridot’s side.

Peridot, meanwhile, scanned the room. A handful of campers from other cabins were there already, picking at the food tables or settling themselves on benches. The seats had been moved so that they made lines spanning across the floor. Clear of tables in the middle, the Temple had transformed into a type of auditorium. At the opposite end of the room where the staff table was usually situated, Pearl had her nose pressed to a clipboard, monitoring the hanging of makeshift curtains in front of a raised platform that would become the stage. Hanging up a sheet on one end of the curtain rod was Garnet, and on the other—

“Jasper!” Peridot called out before she could stop herself. She rushed over to where Jasper finished hooking the sheet over the rod.

“Peridot,” Pearl chastised, peering at her from over the clipboard, “Jasper is busy helping set up for the show. Now, please—”

“Just give me a second,” Peridot said, waving her hand deliberately in front of Pearl’s face. She had hoped this would serve to shut her up.

It didn’t work. In fact, it only succeeded in making Pearl’s jaw drop. “ _No, not ‘just a second.’_ If you _recall_ , Jasper is still being punished from the first Beach Day, and limiting her time with—”

“Per, it’s fine,” Jasper interrupted. Only then did Peridot get a good look at her. She looked tired— _so_ tired—with her mouth set into a hard line. But the edges of her eyes were soft. With a pointed nod, she whispered, “I’ll talk to you after.”

She wasn’t mad at Peridot, but she was mad at _something._ And Peridot knew she was about to find out what. So she just nodded her head, threw Pearl one last annoyed look, and then moved to grab a seat at the back of the room. As she waited, she resumed chewing on the tips of her fingers.

The room filled steadily. Amethyst eventually took her seat on Peridot’s right, plate piled high with junk food. Jenny, Buck, and Sour Cream entered a bit after that. Buck initially moved to sit beside Peridot, but she shielded the spot with her hands.

“Sorry,” she said. “I’m saving that for Jasper.”

Buck nodded solemnly. “Super seat savers five thousand. Respect.” And then he shifted to settle himself on the seat next to the empty spot.

More time passed. Peridot watched Steven lead Connie to seats front and center, both of them carrying their instruments in their arms. Sadie sat a couple rows behind them, and if her heaving shoulders were any indication, she was hyperventilating; a few Green Cabin campers patted her arms encouragingly.

Then Lapis entered. She automatically sat next to Jenny, five seats away from Peridot. Peridot tried to release the breath she automatically held at her appearance.

It seemed like hours later when Pearl finally took center stage, folded her hands in front of her chest, and waited for the room to quiet. Slowly, the crowd took notice of this, and bit by bit conversations dropped off.

Pearl took a breath. “Welcome, campers and staff alike, to Camp Hidden Gem’s Annual Talent Show Spectac-a-Palooza!”

Immediately, the room filled with a deafening applause. Amethyst’s particularly shrill whistle forced Peridot to clap her hands over her ears.

“Every year,” she muttered.

Amethyst pried Peridot’s hands back down into her lap. “Yeah, so you should start expecting it, huh?”

Pearl had already continued her speech. “—Express my gratitude for everyone’s continued loyalty to this special—”

There was a movement at the front of the room—Jasper. Peridot waved to get her attention. She knew this had worked as she watched Jasper stalk down the edge of the seats, wrap around the back row, and settle herself straddling the bench, facing Peridot.

“—Some incredible, budding talent—”

“Hey,” Peridot whispered, leaning to the side to speak from the corner of her mouth to Jasper. She kept her eyes on Pearl, though, hoping not to attract unnecessary attention.

“I gotta talk to you,” Jasper said back, barely audible over another round of applause.

“Okay.” Peridot finally looked up. Only then did she notice Jasper’s expression—intense, full of quiet determination. “What’s going on?”

“—Get started! First up—”

“I think Lapis’s stepping out on me.”

Jasper’s voice had been so quiet, Peridot had to strain to hear it. The room was once again filled with ecstatic uproar as Sour Cream’s campers mounted the stage, glow sticks in hand.

Meanwhile, Peridot’s heart and stomach switched places.

The lights turned off. Seeing at all was barely still possible. Electronic music started bumping. “Wait,” Peridot said. She swallowed. “Wait. What? How do—How do you—”

“Lapis hasn’t spent a full night in her cabin in a week,” Jasper growled. Her eyes shifted between the stage, the crowd, and Peridot.

“But—”

“Pearl told me yesterday morning. She was nagging me about keeping Lapis out, and how I—” Jasper stopped, shook her head, scowled. “That wasn’t me, Per.”

The beating music had nothing on the pounding in Peridot’s chest. She forced a smile. “Yeah, but, she did hang out late with us—”

“Not _every night_ ,” Jasper pushed, leaning forward, looming over Peridot.

“Maybe she was by herself,” Peridot supplied. She could practically feel the sweat beading in her palms. “Didn’t you say she has insomnia? Maybe she just went out for a walk?”

Jasper was shaking her head again. “That’s what I thought at first, too. So I followed her last night.”

That took Peridot by surprise. She felt her eyebrows bunch together. “What? I thought you went to bed.”

“I did. Couldn’t sleep.” Jasper shrugged. She was now cracking her knuckles in her hand. “I figured that if I was going to find her, I was going to find her at the dock. So I went there.”

“Did you—” Peridot gulped. “Did you find her?”

Jasper nodded.

“Did she see you?”

Jasper shook her head. “No. I held back behind some trees. But she heard me.” Her scowl deepened. “And you know what?”

Peridot couldn’t help herself from replying, “What?”

“She didn’t look scared at all.” Jasper curled her lip like she wanted to spit. “She was sitting, looking out at the lake. I stepped on some branch, and she whipped around, looking all—all _hopeful._ Like she was expecting someone. And she certainly wasn’t expecting me.”

Peridot could do nothing but continue staring up at Jasper, even as the music intensified. Others began clapping to the beat.

“And then when no one came out to meet her,” Jasper continued, “she just—she looked like a balloon losing air. She was _disappointed_.”

Peridot tried forcing a smile again. “Okay, but you don’t _know_ —”

“I _do_ , Per. I _know_.” Jasper looked straight at her, her face sorrowful, just pleading to be believed. “At swim class today, I asked her what she did last night after she left us at the campfire. She told me she went straight to bed. She _lied._ I’m _sure._ ”

Peridot shook her head. “Jasper, I—”

“All I need to figure out,” Jasper barreled on, now surveying the room with a severe glare, “is _who._ ”

Peridot kept shaking her head. Now everyone in the room was clapping along. She felt it echoing around in her brain. It made it hard for her to think. “ _Jasper,_ I don’t think—”

“I still don’t trust that _freak_. The nature guy. If he—”

“It’s not Ronaldo, Jasper.”

The second she said it, she wished she could take it back. She wished she could take _everything_ back.

Jasper’s eyes widened. “Peridot,” she whispered. “Do you know?”

“No,” she answered—too quickly to be convincing.

Jasper’s eyebrows were no longer visible beneath her mane of hair. “You _do._ You _know._ ”

“I don’t, really—”

Then Jasper’s hand clasped around Peridot’s own. When she spoke, her voice shook—almost as if she was on the verge of tears. “Peridot, _please._ Did she tell you? Did you see them? You _have_ to tell me. You’re my _best friend,_ if you can’t—”

“I—”

“Peridot, _please. Please._ Who is it?”

Jasper’s golden eyes bore into Peridot’s own. Peridot could see nothing else. She could hear nothing, feel nothing—other than the urge to vomit.

“ _Who is it?_ ” Jasper asked again.

Peridot opened her mouth. Then she closed it. She repeated this a couple of times.

Meanwhile, Jasper’s eyebrows lowered. They crumpled together. After a long moment, she asked again, “Who is it?”

Peridot could say nothing.

Suddenly—horrifically, slowly, sickeningly—Jasper’s face slackened. Tears—real tears—appeared at the corner of her eyes, which were still locked on Peridot’s own. Once more, “ _Who?_ ”

Peridot couldn’t breathe. “Jasper—”

“You—” Jasper’s face tightened again. She dropped Peridot’s hand like it was a hot coal. Her expression transformed into that of a monster, coming from Peridot’s innermost nightmares to face her full force. Nostrils wide, mouth grimacing, eyes narrow and red and tears spilling over.

“ _Jasper_ , please—”

“ _You._ ”

The crowd erupted into booming yells and whistles and applause. The lights turned back on.

And, with the speed and force of a semi, Jasper hurled herself off the bench, out the door, and into the night.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been posted only a week after the last update (which is pretty fast by my standards). Be sure you've read Chapter 13 before continuing on.

Peridot didn’t think twice before launching out of her own seat. She did, however, get tripped up while trying to vault over the bench, and the door of the Temple had already slammed shut once more before she managed to clear it.

The room was still full of applause, so this went unnoticed by most. One of the few who did notice was Amethyst.

“ _Whoa,_ Peri, where’re _you_ going?” she asked around a mouthful of food.

Peridot didn’t bother answering. She just ran, praying that the noise of a hundred cheers wouldn’t die down before she could make her escape. She flung the door wide, and almost fell down the steps as she flew forward.

Then she stopped short. The sprint that she’d been anticipating wasn’t necessary, as she found Jasper just twenty feet in front of her, pacing back and forth before the unlit fire pit. Instead, Peridot approached her the way she would approach a great beast—baby step by baby step.

This wasn’t happening. This _couldn’t_ be happening.

“Jasper,” she said slowly, softly, drawing out the syllables in as gentle a manner as she could considering her quavering voice.

Jasper either didn’t hear her, or didn’t care. She continued her hypnotizing march, her head pointed at the ground in such a way that her hair completely concealed her face. 

Peridot gulped. “Jasper,” she said again, more firmly this time. Again, Jasper made no indication that she had any idea Peridot was even there. This, for some inexplicable reason, only served to annoy Peridot, who narrowed her eyes and took a deliberate step closer. “ _Jasper._ We need to _talk._ ”

The minimal amount of courage that Peridot had built up disappeared just as soon as Jasper whipped around to face her.

For a moment, Peridot mused that she’d never actually ever been afraid of her best friend. She’d always been aware Jasper’s raw power, her short fuse. And, of course, Peridot had never intentionally tried to test these things. But never before had she actually _feared Jasper_. Until, that is, she suddenly found Jasper towering above her, teeth bared and eyes wild. With the glow from the half-moon cast on Jasper’s face from above, she looked downright _menacing._

Jasper’s voice rumbled in a low growl—like a lion stalking her pray. “ _Just tell me._ ”

Peridot’s knees knocked together as she gulped again. She opened her mouth to say _something_ , _anything._ Nothing came out, not even a squeak.

In a movement so abrupt that Peridot flinched, Jasper picked up one of the larger rocks that lined the fire pit. Then, using both arms, she hurled it away from her. Not at Peridot, though. Rather, it looked as if she was aiming for Pink Cabin. It fell short, hitting the ground with such force that it split in two. Then Jasper swung around to face Peridot once more, yelling, “ _For fuck’s sake! Tell me!_ ”

Frozen where she stood, it was all Peridot could do to snap her jaw shut. She shook her head the tiniest amount, and croaked out, “I— _I can’t._ ”

Jasper turned her back to Peridot, but not before Peridot caught her face transform into one of utmost disgust. Her lip snarled as if she’d just smelled something rotten.

Peridot’s mind was blank. Completely blank. Thinking at all was an impossible task. It was like she was having an outer body experience—looking down at the scene from above. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t happening. _This wasn’t happening._

Like her mouth was moving on its own accord, Peridot heard herself stutter, “I didn’t—Didn’t _mean—_ ” Bile was rising up her throat, stinging it. It was the only sense on which Peridot could clearly focus. She swallowed. “It—it was an _accident._ ”

Looking over her shoulder, Jasper whispered, “ _What was?_ ”

Peridot blinked once, twice. “Wh—what?”

Jasper painstakingly rotated where she stood, facing Peridot once more. Her expression was unreadable. No longer furious, no longer repulsed. But _something._ Something not right. Her voice low and ominous, “ _What_ was an _accident?_ ”

Shaking her head again, Peridot couldn’t force herself to reply.

“I need to hear you say it.”

Peridot just kept shaking her head. The methodical movement was nearly comforting at that point.

Jasper took a step toward her. “ _What_ was an _accident, Peridot?_ ” she said again. A beat of silence. Then, “You fucked Lapis. Was _that_ the accident?”

Peridot stopped shaking her head. She stared up at Jasper, who couldn’t have been more than three feet away from her then. It simultaneously felt as if she were both miles and mere inches away. Jasper’s face remained impassive.

_This wasn’t happening._

Peridot nodded.

“ _Say it!_ ” Jasper roared. She’d bent forward so that her face was on Peridot’s level. It had the effect of making it look like Jasper was getting ready to charge at her.

“ _Yes!_ ” Peridot screamed back, her self-control completely lost. “ _Yes._ Are you _happy?_ ”

It immediately struck Peridot that this might’ve been a stupid think to ask. Jasper’s booming “ _No!_ ” in return only further proved as much.

Peridot took a deep, shaking breath. “It was an accident,” she repeated.

Jasper laughed then—but it was a laugh completely devoid of humor. It sounded hollow. “How is that _an accident_ , Peridot?” she spat. “Tell me. How did you _accidentally_ fall face first into _my_ girlfriend’s—”

Peridot shouted, “Stop it!” Just then, she heard the slow _creak_ and _click_ of the Temple door opening and shutting.

“Wow. Guys. What’s going on out here?”

It was Amethyst. Now Peridot heard her descending the porch steps, the crunching of dirt beneath her feet as she approached them. Peridot had just turned to look at her when Jasper growled, “ _Stay out of this, runt._ ”

At first, Amethyst looked taken aback, her mouth popping open at the affront. But she quickly clamped it shut again, her eyes widening. “Oh, _shit._ ” She looked directly at Peridot then, and lifted her hand to point feebly at Jasper. “Did she—?”

Peridot shook her head. Amethyst stopped talking.

But it was too late. Peridot switched her attention back to Jasper just in time to see the transition on her face—from blind fury to absolute shock. “ _You_ knew?”

Amethyst froze. Then she turned tail and rushed back up the Temple steps, disappearing behind its door as quickly as she’d arrived.

Jasper turned back to Peridot, rage renewed. “ _She knew?_ ” Peridot watched Jasper ball her hands into fists. “ _Who else?_ ”

Meanwhile, Peridot hadn’t realized she was sweating until she felt a bead trickle between her shoulder blades. Again, her brain was fried, pushing itself to work out what Jasper had said. “Who—?”

“Don’t play dumb! _Who. Else. Knew?_ ”

“No—Nobody, I—”

“What is this?”

Peridot missed the noise of someone new exiting the Temple, but there was no missing that voice. That was Lapis’s voice.

Peridot couldn’t bring herself to respond. More surprisingly, however, was the fact that Jasper looked like she was facing the same dilemma. She had stilled, staring beyond Peridot’s shoulder with a haunted expression.

When no one supplied an answer, Amethyst’s voice reappeared. She’d apparently returned with Lapis. “She _knows_ , L,” she muttered.

Without skipping a beat, Lapis replied, “‘She _knows?_ ’ _Who_ knows _what?_ ”

Peridot could practically hear the eye roll in Amethyst’s voice as she said, “Come _on._ The jig is up. _Jasper_ knows. About you and Peri.”

The silence that occurred then was more deafening than anything else Peridot had ever experienced.

“Just thought you oughta get in on this,” Amethyst finished lamely.

“ _Peridot._ ” Lapis’s voice was low, dark. “ _What did you do?_ ”

Peridot turned to face Lapis, who was standing at the base of the steps. Her arms were held stiffly at her sides, her eyes sharply narrowed. To say that she looked mad would be an understatement.

But an anger that could rival Lapis’s bubbled up in Peridot before she even fully realized what was happening. “ _Me?_ ” She shouted, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “You’re going to get all _high and mighty_ with _me_ right now? That’s the _most unbelievable_ — _inconceivable_ —”

“Lapis,” Jasper whispered—so uncharacteristically soft that Peridot’s attention, even in the middle of her tirade, transferred right back to her. Jasper’s eyebrows were knitted together, her eyes large and pleading. “Tell me it’s not true.”

And then Peridot’s eyes volleyed immediately back to Lapis, whose body was still tense but whose eyes had widened to a nearly comical degree. She was an epitomic example of a deer caught in headlights. She opened her mouth—and Peridot nearly _dared_ her to say that Peridot was lying, to throw her under the bus. But then she closed her mouth, only opening it once more to say in a shaky voice, “Jasper. It’s—”

“ _Please,_ baby,” Jasper said. “Please. _Tell me_ _it’s not true._ ”

Lapis just shook her head once, then twice. She looked down at her feet, and let out a just-audible sigh. “I’m sorry.”

Peridot looked back at Jasper at the exact right moment—or the exact _wrong_ moment, rather. Because in that moment, she was able to pinpoint the precise second that Jasper’s heart officially broke. She watched Jasper blink, watched a single tear roll out of the corner of her eye and down the side of her nose. And then she witnessed Jasper’s face crumpling in on itself.

She wanted to call out Jasper’s name, but her voice got caught in her throat. She tried to reach out her hands to her, but her muscles refused to respond to her brain’s command.

Then all her senses were flooded by the sound of Jasper’s roar. It was thunderous, reverberating off the trees and nearby buildings so that it echoed, magnifying even more within Peridot’s skull. Jasper’s eyes were clenched tightly shut, her jaw virtually unhinged as she cried out, “ _Fuck!”_ —drawing out the single syllable in a gut-wrenching howl.

Lapis flew forward, arms outstretched. But Jasper turned her back to her, facing the trees as she screamed out again, “ _Fuck!_ ”

The door opened once more, and Peridot diverted her attention to it—she’d do anything, _anything_ to distract herself from watching Jasper’s breakdown.

Jenny was running down the steps, Buck and Sour Cream close behind her. “Whoa, whoa, _whoa,_ ” she chanted as she approached Peridot, her eyes flicking between Peridot’s own and Jasper’s back. “What’s going on?”

Peridot chewed on the inside of her cheek as she tried to formulate a response. She heard Amethyst mumble, “Where to _start_ ,” under her breath.

Jasper, meanwhile, turned to Lapis—looming over her. Lapis instantly shrunk back while Jasper yelled, “ _What,_ did _they_ know, too? _How many people knew this was happening, huh?_ ”

“Know _what?_ ” Jenny asked.

Peridot tried to think of a response, but Jasper cut in before she could even attempt to get a word out. “That _these two_ —” Jasper indicated Peridot and Lapis in turn with her outstretched hand. “—were _fucking around behind my back!_ ”

Silence hung in the air then as Jasper’s words resonated a bit before dying out. Peridot noted that this was the first time she’d heard of her and Lapis’s affair referred to in such a crass way. It was absent any romanticism, any idealism. It was without any of the emotion that had once been bursting at the seams of it all. But she also noted that what they did should neither have been romanticized nor idealized in the first place. And, when one removed its emotional quality, it was what it was: just fucking around. Peridot had destroyed _everything_ so that she could fuck around. This realization made her feel impossibly sicker.

Meanwhile, Jenny’s eyes widened in shock. Buck’s jaw dropped. Sour Cream, however, looked down at his feet. “I mean,” he grunted. “I sort of figured.”

Chaos erupted. Jasper reeled her fist back and dived towards Sour Cream. Jenny and Lapis moved to stave her off while Buck stepped in front of Sour Cream, shielding him. There was a lot of yelling—“ _Fuck you!_ ” “Hey, calm down!” “How did you—?” “ _You shut your goddamn mouth!_ ” “It’s not his fault!”—but over it all a single voice rang out loud and clear.

Pearl came out of nowhere. “ _I must demand,_ ” her voice called from the megaphone pressed against her lips, her free hand stretched out ahead of her in an authoritative gesture, “ _that you all stop this! Cease and desist!_ ”

Jasper shoved Lapis’s and Jenny’s hands off of her. She breathed heavily through her nose, her eyes bloodshot. Everyone quieted down. Pearl lowered the megaphone. Peridot noticed that, with her hair sticking up in all directions and with her eyes darting around so wildly, Pearl appeared quite as agitated as—if not more than—almost anyone else.

“This. Ends. Right. Now,” Pearl seethed. Jenny opened her mouth to speak, but Pearl continued, “I do not _care_ what _drama_ you all might have gotten yourselves into. I do not care for your _excuses_ either. You will collect yourselves and rejoin us in the Temple. Then you will all meet me in my office tomorrow morning before breakfast to discuss your consequences for disturbing camp activities.” She took a breath. “Is that _clear?_ ”

Some of the group nodded solemnly, others staring off into space in silence. But Jasper took a step towards her and leaned forward, so that her eyes and Pearl’s were on the same plane. A snarl curled her lips as she growled, “Make me.” And then she spat at Pearl’s feet.

Pearl, to her credit, didn’t even flinch—though her frown deepened significantly. It was Amethyst who made a move towards Jasper, hollering as Sour Cream wrapped his arms around her in a bear hug to hold her back. Jasper shoved past them all, marching past the Temple and around it, as if she was heading to the art building.

Lapis immediately hurried after her, shouting, “ _Jasper—_ Jasper, _wait,_ ” as she disappeared too.

Peridot threw one last glance at the group collected around her—all of whom had diverted their attention onto her directly—before moving to follow Jasper as well.

As she passed the Temple, she couldn’t ignore the dozens of faces pressed against its windows, surveying the scene. Campers had practically piled onto one another so that they could all get a look. Peering through the open door was Steven and Connie, looking terrified as they clutched each other’s hands. Garnet stood sentinel behind them, a palm on each of their shoulders. Peridot—though she couldn’t ever be sure—suspected that she’d made eye contact with Garnet as she rushed past. But then she’d rounded the corner of the Temple, and she redirected her focus onto following the heavy, tramping footfalls that indicated Jasper’s path.

Only once she made it around to the back side of the Temple did she finally regain her visual on both Jasper and Lapis. She watched as Jasper continued storming across the field, while Lapis pursued her.

“ _Jasper, stop,_ ” Lapis demanded, clearly out of breath.

Surprisingly, Jasper did stop. Lapis stopped too, just a few meters behind her. And Peridot finally caught up. But Lapis didn’t say anything more—she chewed on her top lip, looking as if she was thinking extraordinarily hard about what she even _could_ say.

Peridot, meanwhile, examined Jasper’s back for a long moment before she said, “We need to talk—all of us.”

Jasper turned slowly around to face them. Strangely, she was now smiling. Although, perhaps it was not so much a smile as it was a smirk, one that didn’t reach her eyes—which were so narrowed that Peridot could barely make out Jasper’s irises.

In a low rumble, Jasper said, “Yeah, _okay._ Let’s talk.” Her eyes narrowed impossibly more. Her smirk fell into a sneer. “ _You first._ ”

Peridot swallowed hard, forced herself to maintain eye contact. “Lapis and I—we’re over.”

Jasper barked out a laugh that made Peridot’s body hair stand on end. Then she threw her arms wide and shouted, “ _Oh,_ well! That’s that, then! That make’s _everything_ —” The shout transformed into an all-out scream. “— _all better!_ ”

“That’s not what I meant!”

“Then I don’t fucking get it!” Jasper dropped her arms, clenched her hands into fists. “You’re done! Sorry to hear it! _What’s the goddamn point?_ ” Jasper kneeled to the ground, digging into the dirt with her fingertips like she was trying to keep from flying off the earth itself. Her hair fell into a sheet, cloaking her face. From behind it, she croaked out, “ _Why?_ ”

At the same time, Peridot and Lapis glanced at each other. Lapis was still worrying her lip between her teeth, looking guilty and sick mixed with something Peridot couldn’t identify. Peridot was certain her own face looked the same way.

Then Lapis dropped her gaze back down onto Jasper. She moved to kneel in front of her, looked unsure as she gingerly placed her hands on Jasper’s shoulders.

“Baby,” she whispered. Jasper’s muscles twitched at Lapis’s touch and voice, but she didn’t move away. Lapis continued, “We made a mistake. That’s all.”

Peridot couldn’t pretend that Lapis’s blasé description didn’t sting a little (or a lot, rather). But she shoved that aside, keeping her attention focused on the scene in front of her.

Jasper looked up a bit. “A mistake?” she repeated.

With a nod, Lapis said, “ _Yes._ A mistake.”

Jasper mirrored the nod, and looked up even further. Peridot could see her eyes again now, which peered into Lapis’s with a quiet intensity. After a pause, Jasper muttered, “It only happened once, then?”

Lapis visibly stilled for an infinitesimal moment. Then she nodded again, “Yeah. Just the once.”

Before she could stop herself, though, Peridot blurted out, “ _What?_ ” And both Lapis’s and Jasper’s heads snapped in her direction, both of whom looking like they’d nearly forgotten she was even there.

And then Jasper peeled herself away from Lapis, standing up and stepping back like she’d been burned. “You’re lying.”

“What—” Lapis sputtered, glancing nervously back and forth between Jasper and Peridot as she stood as well. “N— _no._ I—”

“You _are._ You’re _lying._ ” Jasper ripped her hands through her hair, glaring intently at Lapis. “That’s all you’ve been doing for a _week_. You’ve been _lying to me._ ”

“Please—”

“A week,” Jasper repeated, slowly, almost as if she were chewing the word in contemplation. A beat, then, “ _A week._ You’ve been sneaking around behind my back _for a week._ ”

“ _Jasper,_ I—”

Then Jasper started yelling again, “ _Was it Beach Day? Was it at the warehouse? Is that why you started dicking me around?_ And then—then—” Jasper’s hands fell from her head and started grasping around the air, as if she would find an answer somewhere there. “ _What?_ She dumped you, and so you came crawling back to me? But—” She pointed a finger right into Lapis’s face, which winced. “You’re not even _done_ with her! You went to the dock last night and waited for her like some abandoned _puppy._ ”

Lapis opened her mouth to say something, but she was immediately cut off.

“ _Don’t!_ ” Jasper shouted. “Don’t you _dare_ lie to me! I saw you! I followed you last night and I _saw you!_ ”

Lapis’s expression turned from confused, to surprised, and then to angry. Peridot watched the color rise in her cheeks. “You _followed_ me?”

Jasper laughed without an ounce of humor to it. “Don’t even start with that I-don’t-trust-you _bullshit_. I was _right!_ I was fucking _right all along!_ ”

Lapis’s face was now completely red. She was shaking so hard that, for a moment, Peridot worried she might’ve been having a seizure. Lapis opened her mouth again.

“You can’t lie to me,” Jasper interrupted. She took a step towards Lapis and bent down so that their eyes were on the same level. “I’ve seen what you’re capable of. I thought _I_ was a brute. But you—” Jasper’s face wrinkled in absolute disgust. “ _You’re a monster._ ”

Before Peridot could fully process what was happening, Lapis’s hand struck out and slapped Jasper across the face.

The rest happened in such quick succession that it couldn’t have taken up more than five seconds. But—just as it happened when Jasper punched out that punk at the warehouse—Peridot experienced it frame-by-frame, like an old film reel.

Frame one. Jasper realizes what’s happening just as Lapis’s hand makes contact with her cheek. Her head is snapped a bit to the side from the force.

Frame two. A blind rage returns to Jasper’s face, and she reaches her own hand up.

Frame three. She grabs Lapis by the wrist, and twists.

Frame four. Peridot herself automatically flies forward. She squeezes between Jasper’s and Lapis’s bodies, facing Jasper.

Frame five. Peridot digs her own nails into Jasper’s wrist, and Jasper lets go.

As soon as Jasper released her hold on Lapis, Peridot released her hold on Jasper. Jasper, meanwhile, took a couple steps back to appraise Peridot. Her face swiftly turned slack, save for a single wrinkle between her eyebrows.

It was almost as if Jasper was seeing Peridot for the first time in her life—and Peridot knew that Jasper didn’t like what she saw.

“So that’s how it is,” Jasper breathed out. This wasn’t a question.

Peridot clenched her jaw tight.

Jasper shook her head. She looked so tired all of a sudden. “You’re pointing your shield the wrong way.” She nodded her chin in the direction beyond Peridot’s shoulder. “ _She’s_ the one you should be afraid of.”

Still, Peridot refused to say anything, refused to break eye contact.

Then she saw Jasper’s lip quiver just the slightest amount, and heard her choked whisper, “You were my _sister,_ Peridot.”

And just like that, all of Peridot’s resolve broke. The tension flooded out of her body. She watched Jasper’s heart break all over again. And, without thinking, Peridot tried to reach out for her.

But Jasper shoved past her and began to cross the field to the path that would lead to Yellow Cabin. Peridot spun around and past Lapis to follow her. “Wait—”

“Don’t follow me.”

“ _Jasper_ —”

Jasper abruptly twisted around, her face once again contorted with fury. “ _If you follow me, Peridot, I swear to god. I’ll kill you._ ”

And then she continued on. Peridot didn’t even attempt to follow that time.

All was silent then, save for the chirping of crickets in the distant forest. With nothing else to do, Peridot carefully turned herself around to look back at Lapis.

Lapis held her wrist in her hand, massaging it and staring down at it with intense concentration.

“Is it okay?” Peridot asked, voice so quiet she could barely hear it herself.

Lapis’s voice was much, much louder as she snapped, “ _Why did you have to tell her, Peridot?_ ”

Peridot blinked once, twice. “‘Why did—?’ You think I _planned_ that?”

Pushing on as if she hadn’t even heard Peridot responded, Lapis seethed, “I have to go after her.”

“You _what?_ ”

But Lapis had already turned away, dropping her hands from cradling her wrist as she ran off in the direction where Jasper went. Peridot moved to chase after her, but Lapis must’ve anticipated this, because she was soon yelling over her shoulder, “ _Just leave me alone!_ ” And then she was gone too.

Left by herself on the field, Peridot took a moment just to look around. She mused that she used to think the last week of her life had been the longest she ever experienced. But then, considering that she felt as if she’d lived a thousand lifetimes since just the talent show began, she realized what real hell was.

And then she made her way—slowly and steadily—back towards the Temple, and back towards Pink Cabin.

\---

The campground was dark and still. There was the slightest commotion coming from inside the Temple, so Peridot figured that everyone had gone back inside to finish the talent show. At any other time, she might’ve laughed at the idea of Pearl putting on her great big cheerful act and trying to pretend that nothing had happened.

But not yet.

Peridot climbed the steps to Pink Cabin, pulled open the door, and walked inside. Per usual, it was littered with various effects—shoes, towels, et cetera. She was so preoccupied with her weaving around this minefield that she didn’t even notice Amethyst’s presence until the other girl spoke up. “’Sup, Peri.”

Amethyst was sitting on Peridot’s bed, back pressed up against the windowsill. In her hands was Peridot’s gaming device. Normal Peridot would’ve been furious, would’ve yelled at her about touching her things and ruining her progress. But this new version of Peridot couldn’t have cared less. This was the Peridot that crawled onto the bed beside her, sitting so clumsily that her metal shins accidentally knocked together. Once settled, Peridot just sighed. She stared off into space as she mumbled, “Jasper found out.”

A small, awkward chuckle. “Yeah, I—uh. I reckoned she did.”

Peridot didn’t say anything more. Instead, she just shrugged and then resigned herself to chewing a hangnail on her thumb.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Amethyst asked.

After a long moment, Peridot shook her head.

Amethyst held up her handheld. “Do you want to play?”

Again, Peridot shook her head.

“You wanna watch me play?”

Peridot thought about this. And then she nodded.

So Amethyst resumed her game with Peridot watching over her shoulder. Amethyst was terrible, missing shot after shot and continually failing to avoid pitfalls.

“Press ‘Z,’” Peridot instructed.

“I _am._ ”

“That’s ‘A.’”

“Oh. Okay. Should—” Amethyst’s character suffered a direct hit from a laser beam. The “Game Over” flag flashed on the screen. “Oops. Never mind.” Amethyst pressed the “off” button. “I suck at this game anyway.”

Peridot nodded. Only then did she realize that her head had drooped to rest on Amethyst’s shoulder. She didn’t move, though, and neither did Amethyst. After a long beat of silence, Peridot whispered, “What am I going to do?”

Amethyst’s head leaned on Peridot’s own. “I dunno,” she exhaled.

Another moment of silence, then, “What are you doing in here anyway?”

“Eh, talent show didn’t seem so fun anymore. And—” Amethyst’s elbow nudged Peridot’s ribs. “—I figured you’d probably come straight back here eventually. Wanted to be here when you did.”

“I’m sorry.”

Amethyst made a “pfft” sound between her lips and said, “Don’t be.”

Peridot reached up to push her glasses further up her nose.

“You wanna talk about it yet?” Amethyst asked.

“It won’t do anything,” Peridot replied. “It won’t make anything better.”

Amethyst shrugged, and Peridot’s head bobbed with the movement. “Humor me. Try anyway.”

So Peridot did. She told her everything that happened between her initial exit from the Temple and her return to the cabin, sparing no detail. She was completely exhausted by the time she was done.

That’s when Amethyst took over, telling her everything that happened on her side of things. How she could hear Jasper and Peridot yelling at each other from outside, prompting her to investigate in the first place. How she went to go retrieve Lapis. How, after the three of them split off, Amethyst reentered the Temple with Pearl, Jenny, Buck, and Sour Cream.

“You would’ve thought everyone had just witnessed a _murder,_ the way they were all looking at us,” Amethyst explained. Then she stopped. “Oh—sorry. That probably doesn’t make you feel any better, does it?”

Peridot grunted. “Doesn’t matter. Go on.”

So Amethyst went on. “Then Pearl did that thing where she clapped her hands together, and she put on this big ass smile, and was all—” Amethyst raised her voice an octave to imitate Pearl. “‘Well, Camp H.G.! Let’s get on with the show!’” The impression was really quite good. Her voice returned to normal as she said, “So they did. But it was _so sad,_ man. Like, _everyone_ was so bummed out. The next kids—” She stopped herself again. “Geez, _sorry._ That _for sure_ won’t make you feel better. Anyway, I left. And here I am.”

“Here we are,” Peridot said.

“Peridot,” Amethyst said, shifting so that Peridot’s head slid off her shoulder. She adjusted so that she faced Peridot head on. “I’m sorry. About Jasper and Lapis and—well, about everything.”

Peridot dropped her gaze into her lap. “It’s not your fault.”

“I know that. But still.”

Suddenly, the door cracked open. Behind it were all the other Pink Cabin campers, looking nervous. Steven led the group, his hand on the door frame as he asked, “Are we allowed in?”

Peridot bit her lip and nodded once.

The campers trickled in and most made beelines for their bunks—except for Steven, who made a beeline to Peridot, and Connie, who followed Steven with obvious trepidation. Without pausing for an invitation, Steven crawled onto Peridot’s mattress; Connie just leaned against it. Staring resolutely into her face, Steven asked, “Are you okay, Peridot?”

Peridot nodded again. “Yes, I’m fine.”

Steven kept examining her face, eyes progressively more and more narrowed. “I don’t think you’re telling the truth.”

Peridot could do nothing but blink at him. Then, “You’re right. I’m not telling the truth.”

It was Steven’s turn to nod. “It’s okay to not be fine. D’you wanna talk about it?”

Amethyst cut in then. “Got it covered, li’l man,” she said with a wink.

“Okay,” Steven said. His voice still sounded wary, but he seemed at least sort of satisfied with Amethyst’s answer. He glanced behind himself at Connie before looking back to Peridot. “I know I don’t know what’s going on. Pearl wouldn’t tell us. But I hope you feel better soon.”

“Me, too,” Connie chimed in quietly.

Admittedly, Peridot was a bit touched. But she didn’t let this show. So she just nodded one more time and said, “Okay.”

He smiled at her. “You wanna play cards before bed?”

For some reason, Peridot couldn’t help smiling back—if only a little bit. She exchanged a look with Amethyst before saying, “Yeah, okay.”

But just then, there was a knock at the door.

“Peridot,” came Lapis’s voice. And then the door creaked open, and Lapis’s head popped through. Her expression remained impassive as she said, “I need to talk to you.”

The sudden appearance of Lapis left Peridot a bit stunned, so it was all she could do to swallow and stutter, “Uh—now? Out—outside?”

Lapis didn’t respond. She just disappeared onto the porch, the door shutting behind her with a sharp _click_.

As Peridot began to scooch herself off the mattress, Amethyst grabbed her upper arm. “Just holler if you need some backup, okay?” she whispered, just low enough so that Steven or Connie couldn’t hear.

“Okay,” Peridot replied. Amethyst released her hold, and then Peridot was up. The campers who were already in their beds feigned not paying attention—they kept their noses in their books, or they kept their blankets bunched up around their chests as they faked snores. But Peridot knew that she could feel fifteen sets of eyes on her as she strode across the room.

“We’ll wait up for you!” Steven called out. Then Peridot heard him say, “Connie, can you grab my cards from my backpack?”

Peridot crossed the cabin’s threshold and stepped onto the porch. Lapis was already at the bottom of the porch steps, and didn’t say a word as she peered up at Peridot and continued on, rounding the corner of the cabin. Peridot pursued her until they reached the backside of Pink Cabin, where Lapis stopped. Then she spun on her heel and fixed Peridot with a threatening glare.

“Jasper broke up with me,” she stated in a hushed voice.

“I—” Peridot cocked her head to the side. “I don’t know what you want me to say to that.”

But it was as if Lapis hadn’t heard her, as she kept on as if Peridot hadn’t said anything at all. “Jasper broke up with me,” she repeated. “And it’s _your fault._ ”

Peridot felt her jaw drop. She spluttered, “Wh— _What?_ ”

“I had everything _handled,_ Peridot. I had everything under control. And then you—” Lapis gesticulated wildly at her. “—had to open your mouth and _ruin it._ ”

Heat spiked up the back of Peridot’s neck. Without fully realizing it, she let out a mirthless laugh. “Oh, _I_ ruined it?”

“Yeah. You did.” Lapis propped her hands on her hips and took a step closer to Peridot.

“Enlighten me, then, Lapis.” Peridot mirrored Lapis’s step forward. “How exactly did I— _alone, all by myself_ —ruin everything?”

“ _You told her!_ ” Lapis yelled.

Peridot threw an anxious look to Pink Cabin. She couldn’t tell if anyone was pressed against the windows listening, but she also imagined that it wouldn’t be too hard to hear them anyway if Lapis kept screaming.

Lapis seemed to realize this as well, as her voice lowered into a harsh whisper. “I decided to try to make it work with Jasper. So I went back to her and acted normal and she was _happy._ ” Lapis threw her arms wide. “Isn’t that what this has all been about? To lay low and to keep Jasper happy?”

“That’s not my fault,” Peridot seethed. “She figured it out on her own! Remember, she followed you?”

“But then you went and _confirmed it!_ ”

Well, Lapis kind of had her there. Peridot just sighed. “I’m _so tired_ of lying,” she said.

“And then—” Lapis continued her tirade, once again ignoring that Peridot had said anything at all. She’d begun to pace. “—I tried to get us out of the corner _you_ backed us into! I thought _maybe_ , just _maybe_ , if Jasper thought it was a one-time thing, she could forgive us—”

“You mean forgive _you?_ ”

Lapis wheeled around and pointed her finger in Peridot’s face. “ _Don’t_.” She dropped her hand, continued pacing. “And then you went and messed _that_ up too!”

Peridot brought her hand up and under her glasses to squeeze the bridge of her nose. “Lapis. I don’t want to lie anymore.” She moved her hand to push her hair back, resting it on top of her head. “I have been _so sick_ for the last week because we got ourselves into this—this— _cluster._ One lie on top of another!” She threw her hands in the air. “We were lying to ourselves when we thought, ‘Hey, you know what’s a totally excellent idea? _Having sex.’_ We’ve been lying to Jasper. We’ve been lying to our friends. And then our first set of lies just went and blew up in our face!”

At some point, Lapis had stopped pacing. She just stared at Peridot as she ranted.

“And _now,_ ” Peridot persisted, “you’re telling me that you wanted to get out of that with _yet another lie?_ I can’t _do this_ anymore. I can’t keep up with lie after lie because it’s _killing me._ ”

Lapis didn’t say anything, she just kept on staring. Peridot stared back, breathing heavily through her nose. They stood like that for a while—maybe minutes, maybe hours. Sometime over the course of that evening, Peridot had lost all concept of time.

Eventually, however, Lapis moved to sit on some boulder just off the path. As she concentrated on the ground beneath her feet, her hand automatically moved to massage her wrist.

“How’s your wrist?” Peridot asked. It felt awkward to ask, but a part of Peridot that wasn’t furious was truly concerned. She stepped forward to get a better look at it. She was satisfied to not find any evidence of bruising.

“It’s fine,” Lapis mumbled, though her thumb kept making delicate circles around it.

Peridot shuffled back and forth on her feet, focusing on the semi-comforting pulse it caused at the ends of her shins. She took a sharp intake of breath before she asked, “Why do you even want to go back to her after—”

“I hit her first,” Lapis interrupted. Then she scoffed. “I deserved it.” She half-smiled, as if she reveled in such a belief.

“Well,” is all Peridot could think to say in response, settling on chewing the inside of her cheek in lieu of saying anything further.

Lapis heaved a great sigh, keeping her eyes trained on the dirt as she said, “I just wanted everything to go back to normal. Make myself feel the way I did before—”

When Lapis didn’t go on, Peridot supplied, “Me?”

Lapis nodded in affirmation. Then she looked up, met Peridot’s eyes directly. “I love you, Peridot.”

And just for a microsecond, the world stopped.

Everything—all that had occurred over the last few hours—was forgotten. There was no one in the universe but the two of them, and Peridot’s chest expanded with such force that she forgot how to make herself breathe. Her body warmed and vibrated and literally the only thing she wanted to do at that moment was to yell the same sentiment in return.

But then the world resumed its rotation, and what Peridot actually choked out was, “What am I supposed to do with that?”

Lapis blinked. “What?”

“No,” Peridot said simply, shaking her head. “ _No._ We’re not doing this.”

Lapis’s mouth popped open a bit, and she blinked again. “Doing—?”

“ _This._ ” Peridot took a step back, hands reaching up to rip through her hair. “We’re not doing this anymore, Lapis!”

Lapis moved to stand up, shaking a bit on her ankles. “But—”

“ _I said no!_ ” Peridot shouted, so loud that it echoed around the surrounding forest. _No! No! No!_

A tear rolled down Lapis’s cheek, shiny from the moon’s reflection.

Peridot found herself wishing that that moment in time could be like one of her video games in that, if she made a misstep, she could just choose to not save the game and to play the level over again. Peridot would’ve certainly done it differently if she had the option. She knew that she still would’ve said no, still would’ve made the unconscious choice to not hurt Jasper any more than they already had. There wasn’t any other option but saying no.

But maybe if she’d been ready for it—maybe if sheer shock hadn’t been an element—she could’ve done it in a gentler way. She could’ve perhaps let herself say, _I love you, too, but we can’t._

It was too late, though. Lapis dashed away from her before Peridot had the chance to say another word, down the path that led to the lake.

And Peridot resigned herself to let her go.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The goodbye.

The first thing that Peridot noticed when she awoke on Saturday morning was the crick in her neck. The second thing was the odd angle at which she’d been laying, which at least explained the crick. Third, she noticed that she wasn’t alone, which then explained the odd angle.

Initially confused, she pushed herself onto her elbows and blinked her eyes a couple of times to help her focus. In doing so, Peridot found that her feet—still strapped onto her shins—were resting on the end of the bed where her head usually lay. Right next to where her head had actually been laying, she found Amethyst’s head. Sometime during the night, the other girl had spread out on her back like a starfish; now her mouth was wide open and breathing deep. Peridot tried to suppress a smirk at that as she glanced down to the foot of the bed. There she found Steven, curled up like a cat with his arm extended over the side of the mattress. Connie was in Steven’s bed, arm also extended out. In between the two mattresses their hands nearly met, hanging limply next to each other. Peridot pondered if they’d fallen asleep holding hands.

And, by the looks of it, it seemed as if all four of them had fallen asleep in quick succession. They were still wearing their clothes from the night before, and playing cards were strewn haphazardly across the bed.

Peridot shifted—slowly, so as not to disturb the bed’s other occupants—to remove her prostheses. After placing those gently on the cabin floor, she reached behind herself to retrieve her glasses from the windowsill. Once those were perched properly onto her face, she pulled her tablet from under her pillow, opened a word document, and began typing.

“Log date 062715.”

Then she paused. Where even was she supposed to start?

After an indeterminate amount of time spent writing and erasing over and over again, she felt Amethyst’s head nudge her thigh. Then she heard a grunt. “Wh—What. Where?”

“Morning,” Peridot whispered, clicking the “sleep” button on her tablet and sliding it back into its proper place under her pillow. Then she watched as Amethyst opened her eyes, stared at her for a second, and closed them again.

“Morning,” Amethyst replied. She yawned, smacked her lips, and then reopened her eyes. “How’d you sleep?”

Peridot shrugged. “Fine, all things considered. You?”

Amethyst smiled serenely. “Like a rock.” She moved her hands to rest her head on top of them, stretching a bit as she asked, “So. What’s the game plan today?”

Unable to help herself, Peridot chuckled. If you don’t laugh, you cry, right? “I honestly have no idea,” she said.

“Just take it one step at a time,” Amethyst mumbled, eyes drifting closed yet again. “Inch by inch, life’s a synch.”

Peridot rolled her eyes. But she couldn’t deny that it was relatively sage advice from someone so young.

“Wait,” Peridot said, staring dumbstruck off into space. Then she transferred the look down to Amethyst. “It’s your birthday.”

Amethyst smirked and cracked open a single eyelid. “Yep.”

“Well—Huh.” Peridot cocked her head to the side, kind of grimaced in an attempt to smile. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks, Wondernerd.”

Guilt was a feeling with which Peridot had grown quite familiar over the past few weeks. But still, that didn’t keep it from making Peridot feel a little sick to her stomach. “You didn’t go out last night,” she said, frowning.

“Figured that none of us really felt up to dancing, am I right?”

“I’m so sorry.”

Amethyst’s eyes popped open at that. “Hey, don’t sweat it.”

“No, really, I—”

“I _said_ —” Amethyst moved to sit up, leaning her back against the windowsill next to Peridot so that they were shoulder to shoulder. “—don’t sweat it. Really. You were going through a thing—”

“That’s one word for it.”

Amethyst cracked a grin. She continued on like Peridot hadn’t said anything. “It wasn’t even technically my birthday last night. So, you’ll just make it up to me tonight. No big deal.”

“Tonight?” Peridot tried her best to not frown, settling her mouth into a tight line instead. “You think anyone’s going to feel up to it now?”

Shrugging, Amethyst said, “Don’t know, don’t care. If it’s just the two of us, then it’s just the two of us.”

Peridot hummed a low, skeptical note. “Sounds kind of lame.”

Amethyst made a reasonable effort to stifle her laugh, ending up releasing a “pfft” sound from between her lips. She elbowed Peridot in the ribs. “ _You’re_ lame.”

They sat like that for a while, speaking in hushed voices so as to avoid waking up the other campers. Amethyst proposed two-person schemes they could get into in the middle of the night in Beach City. Peridot just plain didn’t have the energy to shoot them down. Instead, she’d add a suggestion here and there to upgrade Amethyst’s ideas from plain inadvisable to virtually impossible. What started off as a plan to return to the warehouse and to drink until they couldn’t see straight, for example, soon transformed into breaking into Funland after hours, commandeering the Ferris wheel, and hotwiring it into going so fast that they’d shoot off into space. The conversation was light, silly.

They didn’t discuss what happened last night—at least, not explicitly. And Peridot could not have been more grateful for it. Sure, she’d have to face it eventually. But she could at least wait until the last possible second, couldn’t she?

Peridot had anticipated that that last possible second wouldn’t arrive until after Pearl’s wakeup call—maybe until they were all boarding the buses for Beach Day, or even later. Unfortunately, she had quite overshot the timing.

The slanted light that seeped through the cabin windows indicated that it was still relatively early when Peridot thought she’d heard something outside. She wasn’t sure just what it was, but still—it was something. She froze and, after a moment, held up her finger to silence Amethyst—who’d been in the middle of contemplating what space adventures would be appropriate for a birthday celebration.

“What?” Amethyst asked, an edge of anxiety in her voice.

Peridot didn’t respond. She just waved her finger again, straining her ears hard to listen.

At first, she didn’t hear anything beyond the typical, eerie quiet of the sleepy campground. Somewhere relatively close to Peridot’s window, a bird was twittering. But just as Peridot was about to write off whatever she’d heard to the bird, it stopped. And then Peridot heard that _something_ again, this time certain that what she was hearing were indistinct, faraway voices.

If the sudden crumpling of Amethyst’s eyebrows was any indication, she heard them too. This suspicion was confirmed when Amethyst whispered, “Who is that?”

Peridot frowned, muttered back, “I’m not sure,” and strained her ears even harder. The voices were getting progressively closer and—even before Peridot could see the voices’ owners—clearer. As soon as one of the voices barked out something, however, and Peridot heard its deep strength, her jaw dropped.

Amethyst’s did as well. “ _Jasper_ ,” she hissed.

Together, they jumped to look out the window. And soon the two previously disembodied voices came into view on the path behind Pink Cabin—Lapis first, and then Jasper following closely at her heels. Slung across Lapis’s back were her backpack and duffle.

“What’s she doing?” Amethyst asked. “Is she _leaving?_ ”

Peridot didn’t answer.

Jasper’s voice was now clear—half-pleading, half-growling. “ _Lapis_ ,” Jasper seethed. “ _Baby,_ just stop. Hold up. _Please._ ”

Rather suddenly, Lapis did stop. She turned about-face and muttered something that Peridot couldn’t hear. Meanwhile, Jasper’s face slackened, and her shoulders slowly moved up and down in what must have been a deep breath.

“Will you just—” Jasper took another big inhale as she clasped her hands together. It looked like she was begging. “Will you just _stop?_ Go put your stuff back and let’s go for a walk, huh? We can talk this out.”

Lapis’s voice became louder—just loud enough for it to carry to Peridot’s window—as she responded, “There’s nothing left for us to talk about!”

“Baby, _come on,_ ” Jasper moaned. She dropped her hands, and then ran them through her thick, tangled hair. “We can _fix_ this.”

“ _How?_ ” Lapis seethed, dumping her bags on the ground at her feet and moving to place her fists on her hips. “ _How_ is there even the most _remote_ possibility that we—”

Jasper abruptly fell to her knees, reaching forward to grab at one of Lapis’s hands, encasing it between both of her own. “We can go back!” Jasper’s face cracked into a desperate smile. “Back to how we were before—”

“Why would you _want_ that?” Lapis spat—although she didn’t tear her hand away. “You _broke up_ with me.”

“I was _wrong._ I made a mistake! I was angry, and—”

“I _cheated_ on you.”

The silence that ensued was filled with incredible tension. Jasper bowed her head. Still on the bed, perching at the windowsill, Peridot could feel Amethyst shift uncomfortably. She felt movement elsewhere on the mattress as well, but was too entranced by the scene in front of her to even think of looking away.

Jasper kept a tight hold of Lapis’s hand, her replying grumble only just audible. “I’m not saying it’s gonna be easy. But when we get back to school, we can—” She gulped. “We can start over! No one else is gonna be there.”

 _That is,_ Peridot thought, I _won’t be there._

Jasper, meanwhile, plowed ahead. She gave Lapis a wavering smile and said, “It’ll just be us again.”

Lapis’s shoulders heaved a great sigh. “There are just some things I can’t get past,” Lapis said before finally—slowly, delicately—withdrawing her hand from Jasper’s grip.

Jasper’s head snapped back up. This time, her face looked tortured—eyebrows wrinkled together and eyes wide as saucers—as her empty hands hung limply in the air. “If this is about grabbing you last night, you know that—”

“ _No,_ it’s not that.” Lapis’s now-free hand went automatically to her wrist anyway. “It’s—It’s _everything._ It’s your anger, and your distrust. Your possessiveness.”

With every criticism Lapis flung at her, Jasper seemed to deflate the tiniest bit more.

Lapis seemed to notice this as well. Her voice was a bit softer as she said, “But it’s not just that. It’s _me,_ too.”

Lapis crouched, coming to rest on her knees in front of Jasper, who herself was still kneeling. Jasper stared back at her, transfixed and silent.

Lapis continued. “I was terrible to you. I played with you. I was manipulative. I was selfish. And then when—what happened between me and _her—_ when it happened, I was cruel and distant. I _liked_ taking everything out on you. I _needed_ to.” Lapis’s voice grew even louder as she ranted, her hand coming up to grab at her own face. “ _Stars,_ Jasper, I hit you first! In that moment, I _hated_ you. It was _bad!_ ”

Jasper shifted forward, reaching out to rest her hands on Lapis’s shoulders. “It’ll be better this time,” she pleaded. “I’ve _changed!_ You’ve _changed me_.”

Lapis shrugged Jasper’s hands off her shoulders, moving to stand once more. “Stop. Please.”

Jasper followed suit, standing and taking a step forward so that she and Lapis were closer than an arm’s length away from each other. “I’m the only one who can handle you. _Together_ , we’ll—”

“ _No!_ ”

The sound reverberated within the clearing. Jasper stopped, looking shell-shocked. “ _What?_ ” she growled.

Lapis shook her head. Stooping to unzip her duffle, she said, “What we had wasn’t _healthy._ I _never_ want to feel like I felt with you. Never again.” When she stood up, she was holding Jasper’s cargo jacket, which she pushed into Jasper’s outstretched hands at once. “So just _go._ ”

But Jasper didn’t go. She stayed rooted where she was, staring helplessly at the other girl. The jacket still hung limply in front of her. Her lips moved, but Peridot couldn’t hear whatever it was that she had said. And, in a moment, Lapis had slung her bags back over her shoulders and had gone, leaving Jasper alone.

There was a heavy moment’s silence. Then, for the third time in twenty-four hours, Peridot watched Jasper break. The giant young woman threw her head back and screamed into the trees in one long, drawn-out breath. She didn’t cry out any distinguishable words, but her anguish was expressed regardless.

“ _Jesus_ ,” Amethyst whispered beside Peridot.

Then, in a fast and punctuated movement, Jasper spun to strike her fist into a tree trunk. The resulting _thunk_ echoed, and Jasper curled her fist into the jacket and into her chest, yelling out a single, “ _Fuck!_ ” before collapsing onto her knees once more.

Without being fully aware of what she was doing, Peridot scooted back from the windowsill. She tripped a little over Steven and Connie—who, without her knowledge, had evidently woken up and were craning their necks to see out the window beyond Peridot’s and Amethyst’s heads. And then she grabbed her prostheses, hurriedly strapped them on, and pushed past the rest of the Pink Cabin campers, all of whom were also awake and grouped around Peridot’s bunk, every eye trained on the scene outside of the window. Before she knew it, she was out the door, down the steps, and running pell-mell around the back of the cabin.

Jasper had collapsed a little more in on herself in the few seconds that Peridot hadn’t been watching her. Her forehead touched the ground, like she was bowing, and her arms still clutching the jacket, bunched between her lap and her upper body.

Peridot slowed, eventually coming to a complete stop mere feet from Jasper. Uneasily, she knelt down, leaning heavily on her hands for balance. Then she said in a voice as soft as she could manage, “Jasper.”

Jasper stood so quickly that Peridot flinched. Without even sparing Peridot a glance, Jasper turned and started stalking away.

“ _Jasper,_ ” Peridot repeated, struggling to her feet again. “Jasper, hold _on._ ”

Whipping around, Jasper yelled, “Go follow _someone else,_ huh? Go follow _her!_ ” Jasper made a sweeping movement with her arm, gesturing towards the path that would lead down to the camp entrance.

Peridot couldn’t ignore how red Jasper’s face was, rivaling the hue of those familiar streaks there. Nor could she ignore the plain, wet tracks that fell from Jasper’s eyes. Peridot gulped and muttered, “I—I don’t—”

Without another word, Jasper continued her march down the path that lead in the opposite direction. By the time Peridot had successfully steadied herself in a standing position, Jasper had disappeared from view.

Immediately, Peridot took a step forward so as to follow. But then just as immediately, she stopped. Her gaze wandered to the part of the path that lay out behind her, the part that Lapis had taken only moments ago.

If she hurried, Peridot could probably catch up to her.

But no. Peridot had made that mistake too many times before. She wasn’t so much of a clod that she was going to let herself make it again.

Eyes forward, Peridot moved on. Again, she ran—harder than she ever remembered running in her life, in fact. Even then, it took a long time for her to catch sight of Jasper’s hair rippling behind a few trees ahead. They had already reached the foot of the hill upon which Yellow Cabin rested.

“ _Jasper!_ ” Peridot yelled out between wheezes. “ _Stop!_ ”

Jasper, who had just started climbing the hill, did stop. She even turned around. But her face wasn’t the least bit friendly. It was contorted with a rage so pure that Peridot herself halted in her tracks. Her knuckles—still gripped tightly onto her cargo jacket—were white.

“I’m only going to say this once,” Jasper whispered. Her voice was calm and calculating, so out of sorts with the expression she wore. “Leave me alone, Peridot. Or I will kill you.”

Something surprising took over Peridot just then, and that something was the urge to laugh in Jasper’s face. How many times before had she heard Jasper—either kiddingly, or not—threaten someone’s life? How many times, even, had Peridot herself been on the receiving end of those threats? And how many times did those threats actually come to fruition?

Peridot managed to stifle her urge to laugh, but she did end up smiling despite herself. “No,” she said.

Jasper’s face slackened a bit in what Peridot was sure was utter disbelief. “‘ _No?’_ ” she repeated.

“Yeah.” Peridot nodded. “No. I’m not going to leave you alone, and you’re not going to kill me. Listen—”

The movement was so swift that Peridot’s reflexes weren’t even given the chance to react. Jasper struck out, and her knuckles collided with the side of Peridot’s jaw. The crashing force knocked Peridot off her feet and, before her brain could even register the pain, she sprawled over the dirt.

For a moment, Peridot thought she actually was dead. But she soon figured that, if she was actually dead, her jaw probably wouldn’t hurt so much. She opened her eyes, which took a while to focus on the pine needles strewn across the dirt beneath her face. Then she groaned.

As soon as she did, she heard Jasper grumble, “Shit.” And then Peridot felt the vibration of ground beneath her as Jasper stepped forward and—to Peridot’s great shock—sat beside her. “You okay?”

Peridot propped herself on her elbows to look up at Jasper, simultaneously bringing up one hand to massage at the hinges of her jaw. “Yes. I think so,” she replied.

Jasper just nodded.

Pulling her hand away from her face to examine her fingertips, Peridot asked, “Is this blood? Am I bleeding?”

“It’s mine,” Jasper said. “I punched a tree earlier.”

“Huh.” Peridot took a minute to work her mouth around, to gently clack her teeth together to make sure her jaw wasn’t broken. Other than the pounding, dull ache right beneath her left molars, nothing seemed to be out of order. She reached up further to reset her glasses, which were a little worse for wear from the fall, bent just slightly at the temple. And then, weirdly, she felt the urge to laugh again. “Feel better?” she asked Jasper.

There was no hint of a smile on Jasper’s own face. But there wasn’t, at least, a hint of any other emotion. No particular anger, or sadness. Only a single crinkle between Jasper’s eyebrows, which could have indicated anything at all, and certainly nothing extreme.

After an extra moment, Jasper dipped her chin in a quick nod. “A little. Yeah.”

Peridot pushed herself into a sitting position, her legs splayed out in front of her. One of her prostheses’ knobs had come undone, which Peridot fixed at once.

“I’m sorry.”

Peridot’s head snapped in Jasper’s direction. The other girl wasn’t even looking at her; instead, she was looking down at her own hands, around which she’d balled her jacket. But the wrinkle in between her eyebrows had deepened, which Peridot took as proof that she hadn’t just imagined the apology. “You’re _sorry?_ ” she hissed, absolutely flabbergasted. “ _You’re_ sorry? _I’m_ sorry!”

“I shouldn’t have hit you.”

“Yeah, well.” Peridot rolled her eyes. “I shouldn’t have done a lot of things. I was asking for it.”

Jasper didn’t respond, but she did finally look at Peridot directly. She shrugged.

Peridot took a big gulp of air. “Listen. Jasper.”

Jasper shook her head. “You don’t need to.”

“I _do_ , though. I _need_ to. Obviously, I did something that—”

“Peridot, stop. Please.” Jasper sighed, rested her chin on her hand, and looked down at the ground. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Peridot blinked once. Then twice. Then she sighed a little bit, too. “All right. Can we talk about it later at least?”

After a long second, Jasper nodded.

“All right,” Peridot said again. Then, “Um. Just.” She exhaled between pursed lips. “I really am sorry.”

Jasper didn’t do anything, not even nod. They sat like that in silence for a few more minutes, Peridot rhythmically massaging her jaw, Jasper twisting the jacket between her fingertips. Then Jasper mumbled, “If you want to say goodbye to her, you should get going.”

“Her?”

Jasper fixed Peridot with a glare. Not an angry glare necessarily, more so an annoyed one. “You know who I mean.” Her eyes and mouth softened a bit around the edges. “She’s going home. Her bus’ll probably get here in fifteen or twenty minutes.” Then she stood, turning slightly to offer her hand to Peridot. "So go on.”

Peridot hesitated, and then took Jasper’s hand. Jasper pulled her up effortlessly, but let go at once. Peridot brushed some dirt off of her shorts as they stood there awkwardly.

She was thinking hard.

“I don’t want to—” she started.

Jasper cut in, “Whatever. Just go say goodbye. I think—” She stopped. Her eyebrows knitted together again for just a moment as she glanced once more at the jacket in her hands. Then they relaxed. Jasper continued on. “I think she’d really like you to.”

\---

Out of the desire to maintain whatever shred of dignity she might have had left, Peridot resisted the temptation to run through the campsite and out onto the street. For one, knowing her own campers, she was sure that all the Pink Cabin kids were still glued to the windows, anxious and eager to see another dramatic display. Plus the rest of the camp must be starting to stir by now, as Pearl’s wakeup call was due any minute. For another, Peridot’s lungs still stung from the running she’d already done that morning.

Instead, she walked calmly, head held high and eyes straight forward.

That is, until she made it past the entrance sign and into the thicket of trees beyond it. Then she engaged in a full-out sprint. Every second that passed, she figured, was a second closer to the bus’s arrival. And although she wasn’t entirely certain what is was that she wanted to say to Lapis before her departure, she knew she wanted as much time as possible to be able to say it.

Peridot eventually arrived at the street. Beyond her was the ocean; to either her left or her right was Lapis. Vaguely remembering that they had passed a bench on their walk to the warehouse last week—could that truly have only been a week before?—she veered right and kept up a steady jog.

It seemed hours before a blue head appeared in the distance, but seeing it renewed some energy in Peridot’s tired thighs and lungs. With one last desperate burst, she ran forward, shouting out, “ _Lapis!_ ” as she approached.

Lapis’s head turned instantly. “Peridot?” she shouted back. “What’re you doing here?”

Peridot couldn’t answer her though. By the time she finally arrived at the bench, she was spent. In lieu of saying anything, she simply placed her hands on her knees and wheezed.

“Here,” Lapis mumbled, scooting aside and taking her backpack off the seat next to her, placing it on her lap instead. “Sit.”

Peridot obliged. Neither of them said anything more for a little while as she struggled to catch her breath. Then at last Peridot was able to cough out, “So. You’re leaving?”

Lapis nodded. “I feel like I should.”

Peridot hummed in response. Again, they were silent.

But then they both tried to speak at the same time.

“About last night—”

“I’m so sorry for—”

 “Oh,” Peridot said. “Uh—”

Lapis gave a weak smile. “No, you first.”

Peridot nodded. “Okay. Well. About last night. I feel as if I was a little—uh. I was being rather hard on you—you know. When—”

“No,” Lapis interrupted. “No, I get it. You were right. I was being stupid.”

“I wouldn’t say ‘ _stupid,’_ necessarily.” At the incredulous look Lapis gave her, Peridot couldn’t help but chuckle. “Well then. We were _both_ being stupid.”

There was another moment’s silence before Lapis said, “I’m just—I’m _so sorry,_ Peridot. For _everything._ ”

“Yeah,” Peridot replied. “I am, too.”

“Did you talk to Jasper?”

“Uh, a bit.” Peridot reached up to rub at the back of her neck. “I caught up with her right after you left, actually.”

“Oof,” Lapis grunted. “How’d that go?”

Peridot turned the left side of her face towards Lapis and pointed at her still-throbbing jaw. “Not well.”

“Oh _my god,_ ” Lapis hissed between her teeth. Her hands made a movement like they were going to cup Peridot’s face. But they stopped midair and returned to their resting place on top of Lapis’s backpack instead. “You need some ice on that, I think. It’s probably going to bruise.”

Peridot scoffed. “Can’t say I didn’t deserve it, though, huh?”

Lapis pursed her lips. “I wouldn’t say that. But—” Her cheek twitched in what Peridot suspected was a suppressed grin. “—can’t say it was unexpected either.” When Peridot didn’t say anything in return, Lapis’s eyes narrowed. “So are you guys okay?”

“I don’t think so. Not yet, anyway.” Peridot shrugged. “But we could be worse.”

“Uh-huh,” Lapis said. Then she swallowed hard. “Are—Are _we_ okay?”

After a moment, Peridot smiled a little bit. “As okay as can be expected.”

Lapis smiled back. “Good.”

They both turned to look out over the quiet ocean then. The water was still dark, but the sun had already risen quite a bit. Its rays slanted across the calm waves, reflecting off of them in sparkles. The peninsula upon which Beach City rested stood sentinel, breaking up the otherwise unmarked landscape. The city itself—if the faraway Ferris wheel, just visible from their distance, starting to spin was any indication—must have only just woken up. Within the next couple of hours, Peridot would be there herself for Beach Day. Lapis, however, would not.

There was not yet the sound of any approaching bus, so Peridot stayed seated on the bench, digging her boot into the dirt beneath her.

“Where’s home for you, anyway?” Peridot asked suddenly. “I just realized that I don’t actually know where you’re from.”

Lapis’s smile faltered a little. “Funny,” she muttered, staring resolutely out into the distance. “You’d think after all the trouble we just caused, we’d know each other a little better.”

“Yeah, well,” Peridot responded. “Such is life, I suppose.”

After a moment, Lapis looked back at her. “Golden State, born and raised.”

“ _Really?_ That far?”

“Yep.” Lapis’s grin widened a little. “And you’re from Keystone, of course. With Jasper.”

“Yes, I am.” Absentmindedly, Peridot started to twist the bracelet around her wrist. “Will you—uh. Will you be going back to Keystone in the fall? For school?”

“Probably. Can’t let a little, horrific breakup keep me from pursuing my education, can I?”

Peridot laughed a robust, full laugh. It felt a bit strange to let herself laugh like that, considering—well—everything. But it also felt nice. Cathartic, almost. “I can respect that. What are you studying?”

“Kind of everything, for right now. Haven’t really found my thing yet. You?”

“Computer science. But I’m signed up for an art class next semester.”

Lapis giggled. “Are you _serious?_ _Why?_ ”

“Graduation requirement,” Peridot said, rolling her eyes.

“Pearl would be happy to help you, I’m sure.”

“Well, her school’s actually moderately close to mine. I’m certain she won’t mind my dropping in unannounced.”

“Absolutely,” Lapis agreed, her mouth stretching impossibly wider. “The perfect plan. Although I’d be surprised if something like this—” She reached forward to pluck at Peridot’s bracelet, the one that Lapis herself had made her that first week. “—was in the curriculum.”

Just the lightest touch of Lapis’s fingertips on her wrist elicited a familiar feeling in Peridot’s chest. That feeling, that is, of bricks colliding with chest. This time, however, it felt more like a single brick than a whole bag of them. It was still there, certainly. But it was muted.

When Lapis quickly pulled her hand away, Peridot felt both disappointed and relieved. But then she felt confused as Lapis stood, slinging her backpack from her lap onto her back and picking up her duffle from the ground. Then Lapis looked past Peridot’s shoulder and mumbled, “My ride.”

Peridot hadn’t heard the telltale crunching of tires on asphalt until she too was jumping to her feet. Soon enough, the oncoming bus’s brakes squealed and it slowed, eventually coming to a stop just in front of them.

Lapis turned to Peridot and looked down at her. Other than the slightest frown on her face, she was expressionless. “Well,” Lapis said simply. And then she said nothing more.

“Yes,” Peridot replied.

Tentatively, they both reached out for each other and embraced. It wasn’t like any of their previous embraces, though. Really, it was a friendly hug. If any of the bus’s waiting passengers were to glance out the window at them, none would have any idea that they were—that they’d ever been—more than just plain friends.

Peridot inhaled deeply, unintentionally getting one last whiff of Lapis’s hair as she did so. When she could no longer stand to breathe in that tropical, flowery scent—it did, after all, kind of made her chest pang—she pulled away. “Have a safe trip.”

Lapis nodded, discreetly wiping the back of her hand under her eye. “I will. Tell everyone else I say bye, okay? The group, you know, and the kids. Especially Steven. Oh, hold on—”

Furiously, Lapis whipped her backpack around to unzip its front pocket. After digging through its depths for a second, she pulled her hand back out. It was enclosed around a felt tip pen, which she uncapped using her mouth. Lapis then pulled Peridot’s wrist into her chest and began to write on the back of her hand.

“This is my email. He—Steven—he told me earlier this week that he wanted to stay pen pals after camp was over. I hadn’t thought that it would be so soon, you know. And I forgot to give it to him.” Lapis released Peridot’s hand and re-capped her pen, tucking it once more into her backpack. “So would you please pass that on to him? And—” Lapis tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, looking briefly down at the ground as she said, “And to anyone else who might want it.”

Peridot just blinked at her. And then she blinked down at her hand. “. . . ‘Waterwitch92?’”

Another brilliant grin broke out over Lapis’s face. “I was sixteen when I chose that. Give me a break.” The bus honked its horn. Lapis turned her head towards it to holler, “I’m coming!” And then she looked back at Peridot one more time. “Okay. Bye, Per.”

“Bye, Lazuli.”

And then Lapis had gone, climbed the stairs of the bus, and walked to its farthest back seat. Peridot watched this all from where she stood. She watched Lapis settle, and then she watched as Lapis turned to look out the back window at her. The bus, meanwhile, had started pulling away—its tires slowly crunching along, its exhaust pipe hissing. Lapis lifted her hand in farewell, and Peridot mirrored the gesture.

She didn’t put her hand down again until the bus was far away, around the corner, and out of sight. Peridot, now alone, remained where she was for a second longer. Then, after a deep sigh, she turned away. Heavy step by heavier step, she made her journey back to the camp’s entrance.

No sooner had she passed under the “Camp Hidden Gem” sign than microphone feedback clipped from a loudspeaker just above her. Peridot pondered for a moment that it seemed a little late for Pearl’s daily wakeup call. In fact, she knew this fact to be true as soon as she glanced towards the Temple and observed a hubbub of activity through its windows. The entire camp had already started breakfast.

Regardless, Pearl’s voice rang out anyway, echoing off the surrounding buildings and trees.

“Your attention, please. Campers, the buses will be arriving shortly to take us to Beach Day. Counselors, please begin to organize your campers in an orderly fashion.” There was a brief pause. Then Pearl continued, “Peridot and Jasper, however, kindly make your way to my office posthaste. I repeat. Peridot and Jasper. My office. Immediately, please.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more chapter left before this story is complete. Thank you all for coming along for the ride. I mean it so genuinely when I say that I couldn't have done it without you.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end.

When asked in the future about the series of events that followed Pearl’s announcement, Peridot would respond that she imagined the experience similar to that of a prison inmate on death row. For one, ahead of her laid her fate at the hands of an angry, self-righteous magistrate (figuratively, of course, but perhaps literally as well if Pearl’s tenure in law school proved successful). For another, there was no escape. Her path from the camp’s entrance to Pearl’s office was clear.

For just a moment, Peridot considered running for it. But she didn’t have anywhere else to go or to hide, and she figured that she’d done enough running that morning for a lifetime. So she followed the path like it was lit up for her, a more sinister version of the lights on floors in public places that point people towards emergency exits.

A big difference between Peridot and a death row occupant, however, is that at least a death row occupant knew exactly was punishment was set in store for them. Peridot, on the other hand, was clueless.

Making her feel even more like a condemned man was the sensation of countless eyes following her on her journey. Out of her peripheral vision, she could just see movement through the Temple windows—the movement, she suspected, of dozens of campers pressing their noses against the glass to watch. With herculean effort, she kept her chin up and she kept walking, one prosthetic foot in front of the other.

But she only experienced the thing that would make her stomach drop most once she rounded the corner of the Temple. It was there that she nearly collided chests with Amethyst, who was rounding the corner the opposite direction.

It was the way that Amethyst looked at her after she must have realized just whom she was facing. The humongous eyes, the slightly dropped jaw, the uncharacteristically pale complexion. The two girls stopped for only a moment to survey each other. Then, without words, they seemed to reach the agreement to keep going their separate ways, and that they would catch up about everything later. Amethyst nodded, and then stepped past.

The desperate glance that Amethyst threw Peridot as they passed one another, however, said more than words ever could:

_Dead girl walking._

Still, Peridot continued on, and soon she reached the office that was tucked into an addition at the back of the Temple. With a shaky breath and shakier knees, Peridot lifted her fist to wrap on the office door. No sooner had she withdrawn her hand than a stern, slightly muffled voice called out, “Come in.”

And Peridot did—granted, with a fair amount of trepidation. She slowly pushed open the door and equally slowly peered around it and into the room. It was far smaller than she remembered.

But, to her defense, she had been much smaller herself the last time she had been there.

Whatever looming flashback she was about to experience, however, was cut short by Pearl’s voice saying, “Peridot.” Only at that moment did Peridot really notice the older girl’s presence behind the small wooden desk in the corner of the room. Pearl’s eyes were trained on the contents of some file folder spread in front of her, her lips slightly pursed. “Please, sit down.”

To the untrained eye, Pearl looked absorbed in her work. But as Peridot pulled the door shut behind her and moved to plant herself on one of the folding chairs jammed between the front of the desk and the wall, she couldn’t help but notice just how still Pearl’s eyes were. They didn’t jump to the door upon Peridot’s entry, nor did they follow Peridot’s path across the room. Upon closer inspection, Peridot could see that Pearl’s eyes weren’t even scanning the pages under her nose. Instead, they remained frozen on a single point.

“Pearl?” Peridot asked, trying her hardest to swallow down the anxiety that was rising in her throat like bile. “What’s going on?”

Suddenly, Pearl’s eyes jumped from the paper to meet Peridot’s own. Just as quickly, though, they jumped back down. “Let’s wait,” Pearl said (and Peridot would have sworn that she could hear an anxious tremor in Pearl’s words too), “until Jasper can join us. This conversation involves both of you.”

In spite of the fact that Pearl’s expression was largely unreadable, Peridot could tell that it wasn’t worth trying to pursue any more information at that moment. So, to calm her increasingly violent nerves, Peridot settled for staring aimlessly around the room. Behind Pearl’s chair was what Peridot recognized to be a bunk mattress, propped on its side against the wall. If she had the opportunity to poke around through Pearl’s desk drawers, Peridot was sure she’d find a pillow and a blanket. But outside of the presence of the mattress, Pearl’s office was kept meticulously clean, nary a dust particle in sight or a thing out of place. The only other thing that particularly stood out was a photo that hung on the wall against which the desk was pushed.

The frame was fairly small, its wood a bit aged. The picture inside, however, was in pristine condition. And then Peridot got a good look at the woman inside of the picture. She was a big lady, not entirely unlike Jasper. But this woman was softer around the edges, more fat where Jasper was pure muscle. The woman smiled serenely down at her lap, and with the strawberry blonde ringlets that framed her face, she looked nearly angelic.

“Who’s that?” Peridot asked without thinking.

Just as suddenly as before, Pearl’s eyes shot upwards. But this time, they spun with her head to appraise the picture for themselves. And then they softened. “Oh,” Pearl sighed. “That’s Rose Quartz.”

Peridot nodded. Then when Pearl didn’t say anything more, she cleared her throat. “Who’s Rose Quartz, then?”

Pearl didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she seemed to drift off, lost for a moment in the photograph and the woman it captured. It made Peridot distinctly uneasy, so she was more than relieved when Pearl appeared to snap back to attention, swiveled her head to face Peridot full-on, and said, “She was my counselor when I first started here.”

“Wow,” Peridot said, glancing back over at the picture. “She must’ve been a good one, huh?”

Pearl absentmindedly glanced back at the picture herself. Her voice sounded abnormally dreamy as she replied, “Yes. She was wonderful.”

Peridot forced a chuckle. “I mean, I don’t anticipate any of _my_ campers will frame a picture of me to keep at their desks. Am I right?”

Visibly faltering for a second, Pearl’s wide eyes jumped back to Peridot. If Peridot wasn’t mistaken, she would’ve described them as looking guilty. But the fleeting expression was gone again very quickly, and Pearl responded, “Well, really, she was much more than just a counselor.”

Eager to put off her growing feeling of unease—until Jasper arrived, at least—Peridot nodded again, hoping to coax Pearl on.

Pearl must’ve thought that Peridot looked skeptical, though, because something like agitation began to seep into her voice then. “No, _really._ After she resigned as counselor, we kept up correspondence. She was from Beach City, after all, and I grew up not too far from here myself. So she’d make the effort to visit me about once a month. And then when I became old enough, she’d permit me to babysit Steven. She was more like family than—”

“Wait,” Peridot interrupted. She’d only been half-listening until the familiar name had pulled her back in. “Wait. Steven? _Our_ Steven?”

Stopping abruptly, Pearl frowned a bit. “Of course. Steven is Rose’s son.”

Wheeling back around to stare once again at the picture on the wall, Peridot muttered, “I didn’t know that. Steven’s never mentioned his mom to me before.”

As she studied Rose’s face with Steven’s in mind, she could see it. Not that they resembled each other greatly; of course, from what she remembered about Steven’s father, Steven definitely looked more like him. But there was undeniably something there, regardless of her being unable to put her finger on it.

“Yes, well,” Pearl continued on. Much softer, “She—she passed away.”

Peridot’s head spun so quickly to face Pearl again that her neck tweaked a little. “She _what?”_

Pearl just shrugged and looked down to examine her hands, which were folded primly on the edge of the desk. “Five years ago.”

The door opened as Peridot struggled to say something to that. At first she was grateful for the interruption—she hadn’t known what she could have even said that would’ve been a remotely appropriate response. But when she saw that it was Jasper who had opened the door, and she was reminded of why she was even in Pearl’s office in the first place, her stomach sank even further into her gut than it already had.

Pearl, too, seemed grateful for the interruption. She plastered on her big smile before—Peridot was certain—she herself remembered why she wanted the three of them to meet. Her smile dropped, and she cleared her throat in a dignified way. “Jasper, thank you for joining us. Have a seat next to Peridot.”

A flashing look of discomfort momentarily betrayed Jasper’s cool face. Her nostrils had flared a microscopic amount, her eyebrows had furrowed ever so slightly. But the expression disappeared in an instant, and soon Jasper was squeezing herself into the chair next to Peridot’s in front of Pearl’s desk. Peridot tried not to notice that Jasper didn’t look her in the eyes as she approached, and that Jasper crossed her arms in such a way once seated that their shoulders wouldn’t brush. And then when that didn't work and Peridot noticed it anyway, she tried not to feel hurt (which didn’t really work either).

Pearl’s eyes, meanwhile, volleyed between the two girls. Then Pearl took a deep breath and said, “Now that I have both of you. Ladies—” To Peridot’s utmost surprise, Pearl’s voice seemed to shake a bit on the last word. Pearl took another deep breath before she continued. “I have asked you to join me here for several reasons. First of all, I want to discuss last night’s incident.”

Peridot could feel Jasper shift in her seat next to her. As she peered at Jasper through the corners of her eyes, she could see that the other girl was staring up at the ceiling. If Peridot hadn’t known any better, she would’ve assumed that Jasper had already zoned out. But she could see it, that quiet intensity on the other girl’s face that proved she was listening with rapt attention.

Pearl restacked the papers on her desk as she continued to lecture. “I was initially hoping to have this conversation with all of you—your group of counselors, _et cetera_ , I mean—earlier this morning but, of course, you two and Lapis failed to be in attendance. Which I find particularly disappointing because, from what I’ve gathered, all this _drama_ seems to be centered around you three.”

Both Peridot and Jasper tried to speak at the same time.

“It’s none of _your_ —”

“I don’t see _why_ —”

But Pearl lifted her hand to silence them. It worked. She pressed on. “I’ve already been informed of the basic overview and, to be quite frank, I am not interested in hearing any more. That being said, your behavior last night was wholly, unjustifiably, _outrageously_ inappropriate. _Honestly,_ ladies, I cannot _fathom_ —”

At this point, Peridot’s attention waned completely. Between Pearl’s droning, the office itself, and her best friend sitting next to her, it was all too much to put off remembering the last time she sat in that chair, across the desk from a junior director. Back when Peridot was even tinier, and the metal shins and plastic feet that hung from her knees felt heavy and foreign and _wrong._ Back when Jasper was still moderately average-sized, but with a temper that could outstrip any of the other campers and even a few members of staff. Peridot had sat—perhaps even in the exact same chair—next to Jasper, who massaged the knuckles of her left hand, the one that was encompassed by a dark red streak. Staring up at the junior director with her humongous glasses and her twiggy body, Peridot mused that the child version of her must have looked astonishingly like a bug. But in that office on that long-ago day, reeling in the aftermath of Jasper punching in the teeth of some kid that had tried to trip Peridot, she didn’t feel much like a bug at all. For once, she felt like the kid with the magnifying glass. Or, at least, the friend of the kid with the magnifying glass.

When modern-day Peridot was pulled from her memory by some question Pearl asked, she realized that a lump had formed in her throat. She swallowed it down and asked, “Sorry—uh—can you repeat that?”

Pearl’s eyelids twitched in a clear effort not to roll her eyes. Pearl pressed, “I _said,_ ‘Did either of you see Lapis this morning?’”

Peridot couldn’t help her gaze flicking over to Jasper, who was still staring at the ceiling. “Uh—yes. We saw her.”

“Then you’re aware of the fact that she resigned from her post as swimming instructor.”

“Well, yeah,” Peridot said with a nod. After a moment, she asked, “But who told _you?_ ”

Pearl didn’t say anything at first. Instead, she shuffled through the pile of papers in front of her. From near the top of the stack, she pulled out a single sheet of notebook paper. “Her formal resignation,” Pearl explained as she leaned forward to hold it under Peridot’s nose. “She slid it under my door before I arrived.”

Peridot glanced down at the page. She wasn’t quite sure what exactly she was expecting and, at the very least, she was pretty sure she wasn’t expecting some five-paragraph essay detailing Lapis’s actions and regrets. But Peridot _knew_ that she hadn’t been expecting Lapis, in the same color blue that was currently inked across Peridot’s hand, to only write three words.

_I resign. - L_

At that, Peridot couldn’t help but smile.

Soon enough, Pearl pulled the paper back and returned it to the file folder. Judging by the way Jasper was leaning back into her chair, Peridot realized that she too had shifted forward read the note. Jasper, however, did not seem to find it as funny as Peridot did. She went straight back to staring at the ceiling, stony faced.

“Despite her brevity,” Pearl said, her voice becoming slightly higher pitched with every word she spoke, “it is clear to me that Lapis realized the gravity of her actions and, by resigning, aimed to maintain some modicum of respectability.” Then Pearl stopped, took a moment, and swallowed. “It is my belief that it is in everyone’s best interests that you two follow her example.”

There was silence as Pearl’s words processed. That silence grew heavier, more tense the longer it went on.

“Wait,” Peridot mumbled. She had _heard_ Pearl’s words, and she had certainly _understood_ Pearl’s words. But just what Pearl was asking them to do refused to sink in. “What?" 

Pearl heaved a great sigh. As soon as she’d finished speaking, her face had grown grim, pallid. “I think you two should resign from your posts as counselors. Otherwise—” Pearl stared down at her hands, wringing them out. “—I will be forced to terminate your employment myself.”

Jasper jumped up abruptly, her chair scraping harshly against the linoleum beneath it. She didn’t say anything, though. She just glowered down at Pearl, mouth slightly agape.

Peridot, on the other hand, remained frozen in her chair. “Wait,” she repeated. “ _What?”_

“Don’t give me that look,” Pearl said to Jasper—surprisingly, only half-scolding. She looked back to Peridot as she stood and leaned her weight onto her hands planted on the desk. “Are you really surprised? Your behavior last night is indicative of deep-seated issues that have been present since your employment began!”

“What are you _talking_ about?” Peridot seethed, suddenly angry. She stood, too, and crossed her arms. “There haven’t—”

“Attacking a local.” Pearl brought up her hands, counting off on her fingers as she listed offenses. “Continually skimping out on consequent punishment, including cleanup duty—”

With a nervous glance at Jasper, Peridot hissed, “But—”

“ _Sneaking out,”_ Pearl continued, growing progressively more stern, “of your cabins past lights out. _Drinking_ on camp property, and while _underage._ Sneaking out of camp _entirely!_ Allowing a camper, who was a _minor,_ to _join you!_ Being so hungover the next day that you had to skip supervising and participating in camp activities!”

Peridot would not have been more shocked if Pearl had slapped her. She opened and closed her mouth again and again, completely incapable of forming a coherent sentence. “Who—?”

“Nobody,” Pearl said, moving her hands to rest authoritatively on her waist. “I am much more aware of the goings on at this camp than most would give me credit for, thank you.”

But then she deflated, just enough for it to be barely perceptible. Pearl took her seat once more. Staring down at her hands, which she once again folded at the edge of the desk, she sighed. “Counselors have been doing what you’ve been doing—sometimes even _worse_ —since Camp Hidden Gem was founded. It’s part of being young. And junior directors have always turned a blind eye to such misconduct as long as it didn’t affect the camp itself.”

She looked back up at both girls, a bit of fire renewed in her eyes. “But you crossed a line last night. You let your personal affairs contaminate your behavior, and you subjected your campers—campers who _idolize_ you, _both_ of you—to an ugly demonstration. I can’t just—” Pearl voice cracked a bit then. She took a moment, blinking up at the ceiling, and then went on. “I _can_ not and _will_ not turn a blind eye to _that._ So.” Settling her gaze onto the pair of them, she raised her eyebrows expectantly. “Do I have your resignations?”

Peridot was still too distracted by Pearl’s comment about her campers idolizing her— _as if_ —to reply immediately. So she didn’t notice at first when Jasper brought her hand up. After a moment, however, she caught on, and was under the brief impression that Jasper was about to backhand Pearl.

Jasper did no such thing, though. She had brought her hand up to untie the yellow bandana wrapped around her bicep. Then, once done, she threw it onto Pearl’s desk atop the file folders. And finally, swiftly, Jasper spun on her heel and exited the office, leaving the door wide open behind her.

She couldn’t successfully escape, however, before Peridot got a good look at her face. It was empty, expressionless. In other words, Jasper looked as numb as Peridot felt.

Peridot—maybe because of the chill that was seeping into every inch of her muscles—remained standing, motionless. She turned her face to Pearl, licked her lips, and whispered, “Who—uh. Who’s going to take over Pink Cabin if I’m—” She stopped mid-sentence, unable to go on.

Pearl’s lips were set in a thin line. Peridot noted that she looked pretty miserable herself. “Well, Amethyst turns eighteen today,” Pearl replied. “And she’s been a longtime tenant of Pink as a camper. I offered her the position.”

Mechanically, Peridot nodded. “Did she take it?”

It looked as if Pearl was suppressing a bit of a smile, given the way the corners of her mouth twitched. “It took a good deal of convincing. But yes, she accepted.”

Strangely, this news did not have the impact that Peridot would have expected. It didn’t make her feel hurt, or betrayed. If anything, and if only a little, it made her feel better. And at the very least, this news explained why Amethyst looked the way she did earlier.

In order to fill the void of awkward silence, Peridot knew, Pearl prattled on. “And Jenny has a sister—Kiki—who previously expressed interest in applying for some sort of position here. She used to be a camper, too, before she started spending her summers at an athletic-specific institution. So while we’re at Beach Day, I’m planning on meeting up with her and offering her the job for Yellow Cabin counselor. Filling the swimming instructor position will be more difficult, because they have to be CPR-certified. But all the other instructors have breaks and, between the three of us, we should be able to supervise free swimming until a suitable applicant makes themselves plain.”

She stopped then and, on tenterhooks, gazed up at Peridot.

Peridot just nodded again. Then she slowly picked up her hand to pull her pink bandana out of its home in her pocket.

But Pearl began to frantically wave her hands in front of herself. “ _No,_ no, please. You can keep it if you want to.” She picked up Jasper’s discarded bandana from its place on the desk and held it out. “She can keep hers, too. I didn’t mean to—well.”

After a moment, Peridot took the yellow bandana. She folded it meticulously before tucking it into her pocket with her pink one. “Thanks,” she muttered. Without another word, she began to make her way out of the office.

“Peridot.”

Halfway out already, her hand on the doorknob, Peridot threw one last glance at Pearl over her shoulder.

Her hands were pressed together as if in prayer and held against her chin. “I’m really, truly sorry,” Pearl said, barely above a whisper.

And from the expression on her face—an expression that portrayed real, true regret—Peridot could tell that she meant it. So she nodded once more, and then walked out, shutting the door behind her.

\---

Later on, Peridot wouldn’t remember the walk from Pearl’s office to Pink Cabin. But, on autopilot and in a dull haze, she somehow made her way back anyway.

Her first moment of clarity didn’t occur until she crossed the threshold into the cabin to find it empty except for Amethyst, who waited poised on Peridot’s bunk. As soon as the door shut with a _click,_ Amethyst wordlessly vaulted forward and pulled Peridot into a hug.

“Aw, _Peri,_ ” Amethyst mumbled. Her throat was evidently thick with tears, which Peridot discovered as they began to seep into her t-shirt. “Aw, _P-Dot._ I’m _so sorry,_ man.”

Peridot’s eyes began to sting, but she blinked the sensation away as she hugged Amethyst back. “It’s not your fault.”

Amethyst leaned back and wiped at her streaming eyes with her fist, her other hand still resting on Peridot’s shoulder. “P offered me the job, you know? And I turned it down because I didn’t want to do that to you. But she kept insisting that me saying no wouldn’t keep you from getting—getting _canned._ And—”

“Amethyst,” Peridot said around a suddenly, inexplicably growing smile. “Shut up.”

There was a beat of silence as Amethyst sorted out Peridot’s words. Then, through her tears and snot and whatever other junk she was excreting, Amethyst started to laugh. She pulled Peridot back in for another hug.

“Okay,” Peridot said, half-heartedly patting Amethyst on her shoulders. “Okay, you’re draining all over me. Quit it.”

Amethyst did pull away, still hiccupping with laughter.

“I think you’re gonna do great,” Peridot said. “Really.”

“Thanks, bro,” Amethyst replied, wiping at her eyes again. “So, we’re cool?”

“Yeah.” Peridot held out her fist. “We are cool. Bro." 

Amethyst’s laughter reignited as she brought her knuckles up to meet Peridot’s. “So lame,” she whispered.

Peridot shrugged and dropped her hand. “Well. I should probably pack, huh?”

Amethyst mirrored the shrug. “Probably, yeah. Guess I’ll help.”

Together, they moved around Peridot’s bunk, collecting any strewn effects they could find. From under Peridot’s pillow, Amethyst retrieved the tablet and proceeded to shove it into Peridot’s backpack.

“You knew that was there?” Peridot asked.

Amethyst rolled her eyes. “Homegirl, you ain’t sneaky. Plus,” Amethyst added with a wink, “to be fair, I’m pretty snoopy. I couldn’t figure out the password, though, so your secrets are safe another day.”

“Yeah, you know what?” Peridot replied, reaching forward to collect her gloves from the windowsill. She shoved them into her duffle. “I don’t think they are, actually.”

Amethyst chuckled appreciatively, and they continued packing. Also from the windowsill, Peridot retrieved a forgotten slip of paper; on it was printed the set of four photographs from that first Beach Day. Peridot took the time to study the faces reflected back at her. Jasper’s arm around her neck, Lapis’s lips pressed to her cheek.

She didn’t notice that Amethyst was gazing at the pictures over her shoulder until she felt the other girl’s breath on her ear. “You gonna keep that?” Amethyst asked

Peridot wheeled around to look at her. “Why, do you want it?”

Amethyst frowned a bit and plucked the pictures from Peridot’s grasp. “Yeah, maybe. I could tape it to the ceiling. Stare up at it when I get lonely at night.”

Barking out in laughter, Peridot snatched the slip back. “You’re such a pervert,” she admonished as she folded the pictures and placed them in the front zip pocket of her backpack. She then removed the bandanas from her shorts pocket and tucked them in there as well.

“You _love_ me,” Amethyst said as she flung some of Peridot’s boxers into the duffle.

“Eh. You’re okay.”

After a minute of packing in silence, Amethyst groaned, “ _So?”_

Peridot’s hands froze midair as she turned to look properly at Amethyst. “So _what?”_

“ _So!”_ Amethyst pressed, her own hands now busying themselves with bundling up Peridot’s towel. “We saw you go after Jaz! What happened next, and does it have anything to do with that honkin’ shiner growing on your face?”

Peridot explained everything that had happened between her leaving and returning to Pink Cabin, sparing no detail. Going after Jasper, getting hit. Going after Lapis, getting left behind. Then going to the meeting with Pearl, and getting fired. As always, Amethyst proved to be an attentive audience, whistling and gasping whenever appropriate but taking care not to interrupt. As Peridot spoke, the two of them finished cramming every one of her belongings into her bags. Eventually, though, there was nothing left to cram into anything, at which point they absentmindedly moved to sit at the edge of the mattress, facing each other. And it wasn’t long after that that Peridot concluded her story with an anticlimactic, “So then I headed back to Pink Cabin.” She shrugged. “And here we are.”

“Here we are,” Amethyst repeated with a nod. 

The silence that ensued then was a little awkward. Peridot tried to lessen the tension by looking around the cabin. Except for her now-empty bunk, it looked exactly the same as it always did. Clothes and shoes and playing cards and remnants of crafts were haphazardly spread across the floors, beds, and frames. The curtains were drawn away from every window, and sunlight seeped in in earnest now. Outside the window just behind her bunk, Peridot watched a butterfly flutter through the clearing.

A tightness grew in Peridot’s heart. She sighed to try to relieve some of the pressure.

“You gonna miss it?” Amethyst asked.

The tightness intensified. “I guess so,” Peridot responded. She looked back at Amethyst and sighed again. “I should go.”

Without words, they both leaned forward at the same time to hug each other again. They stayed like that for a minute longer than Peridot would have normally been comfortable with.

“Gonna miss you, Per Bear,” Amethyst grumbled into Peridot’s hair.

“I’m going to miss you, too,” Peridot replied. And then they both pulled away. Together they stood, and Peridot slung her backpack over her shoulder. Amethyst pulled Peridot’s duffle bag off of the bed, and then helped to throw that over Peridot’s other shoulder.

As they walked to the door of the cabin, Peridot turned her head to gaze at her bunk one last time.

Meanwhile, Amethyst moved to hold the door open for her. “You good?” she asked.

Unwilling to try speaking through the thickness of her throat, Peridot just nodded. Then she stepped over the threshold and out into the sunlight that beamed down on the porch.

All of a sudden, however, Peridot’s stomach sank even deeper into her gut. Without her noticing, the buses for Beach Day had pulled up to the camp’s entrance, where they waited to be loaded. And it appeared that the entire camp had already exited the Temple, grouped in one big clump just at the bottom of the stairs.

Amethyst sucked a breath in through her teeth. “Oof,” she said simply.

Peridot blinked at the sight before her. Then she took a deep inhale of breath and stepped forward onto the top stair.

As she descended, Peridot noticed that Jasper had beat her to the entrance. As tall and menacing as Jasper might appear to others—especially when she was standing a few heads taller than most of the people around her—her face was slack. Her own duffle and backpack laid at her feet as she hugged Jenny. Sour Cream and Buck stood to either side, watching the two girls embrace with sympathetic faces.

“Peridot!” came a voice from the crowd. From its midst burst Steven, with Connie fast on his heels. The two children ran straight to Peridot, and Steven barreled so hard into her stomach that Peridot stumbled backward, dropping both of her bags and just managing not to trip and fall over them.

When Steven pulled back, Peridot could see the tears glistening in his eyes. When he blinked, they spilled onto his cheeks. “You’re not really going, are you?” he asked, his voice surprisingly steady.

Peridot nodded. “I—” She cleared her throat over the lump forming there. “I have to.”

Steven just shook his head. “That’s not _fair,_ though! You _and_ Jasper _and_ Lapis all in one day?”

“You don’t understand,” Peridot said, throwing a desperate glance at Amethyst, who just shrugged. Then she looked back at Steven. “It’s complicated. Adult stuff. It’s—”

Steven stepped back and put his hands on his hips. The gesture reminded Peridot so much of Pearl in that moment that she found herself biting back a chuckle. Steven, thankfully, didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he snapped, “I’m old enough to understand more than you think!”

Peridot was surprised enough at Steven’s outburst that she was unable to respond properly. But the idea of Steven knowing _anything_ about what happened specifically called Pearl’s words back to the forefront of her mind. _You subjected your campers—campers who_ idolize _you—to an ugly demonstration._ As humiliating as this whole debacle had already proved to be, Peridot was even more mortified by the idea that Steven, or any of her other campers for that matter, had _any_ idea of what she’d done.

Steven also appeared surprised at his own outburst, though, and he lowered his voice. “It’s just—” His expression deflated, his hands dropped. Then he launched forward again, clasping his hands around Peridot’s middle in a bone-crushing hug. “I’m going to miss you,” he wailed into her shoulder, muffled a little as he pressed his face into it.

In response, Peridot patted his back lamely. “Well,” she said, her voice strained a bit from the pressure on her lungs. “Amethyst will be here! It’s not as if—”

“It’s not the same!” After a moment, Peridot felt Steven adjust his head to look off in Amethyst’s direction. “No offense.”

“None taken, little man,” Amethyst replied.

Then—hesitantly, it seemed—Steven pulled his arms away and stepped back. He stared down at his feet as he did so, and Peridot was curiously, fiercely reminded of the picture of Rose Quartz in Pearl’s office.

It occurred to Peridot that, even though Steven _had_ somehow managed wormed his way into her affections, they still didn’t really talk about that much. It also occurred to her that she might like to change that.

“Hold on,” she said, bending at her waist to unzip the front pocket of her backpack. Her hands scoured it and right at the bottom, accompanied by years’ worth of crumbs, she finally found a lime green gel pen. She uncapped it and pulled Steven’s arm towards her. “Lazuli—Lapis—wanted me to give you this.” Onto his forearm she scrawled out Lapis’s email address, which she copied from her own wrist. Then she hesitated a moment before adding her own. “And here’s mine. Just in case.”

When she released his arm, Steven held it up to scrutinize what she’d written. His eyes became starry through an upsurge of tears. “ _Cool,”_ he gushed. He reached out to pull Peridot’s arm into his chest, plucking the pen from her fingertips. “Here’s mine!” he explained as he wrote on the underside of her forearm. “Will you pass this on to Lapis for me, too?”

When he was done, he handed the pen to Connie who, without solicitation, wrote her own email on Peridot’s arm. “If you’re ever in Beach City,” she said as she capped the pen and gave it back to Peridot, “let us know. We take sword fighting on the weekends during the school year, and I’m sure we can get you a guest pass!”

“Oh,” Peridot said, a bit taken aback as she tucked the pen into her pocket. “Okay.”

Before Peridot could do anything else, Steven had thrown his arms around her one last time. His head bumped her jaw where Jasper had struck her, and it gave a particularly nasty throb in response. Peridot was about to gently push him off when Steven mumbled, “I love you, Peridot.”

Peridot’s eyes suddenly stung harder than her jaw pulsed. It was even more difficult to blink the sensation away then than it had been earlier. “Wow. Thanks,” she choked out, squeezing Steven back a little tighter than she initially planned.

As soon as Steven stepped away, Connie gave Peridot a quick embrace as well. Only when Connie stepped away did Peridot notice that Jenny, Buck, and Sour Cream had approached her. No sooner had Connie returned to Steven’s side than Jenny stepped forward and stooped to hug Peridot around her shoulders.

This surprised Peridot a great deal, considering that she’d always thought of the three other counselors more as Jasper’s friends than her own. And, by then, they must have been told or figured out for themselves every gory detail of what had happened between Peridot and Lapis and Jasper. But Peridot returned the hug anyway.

“Take care of yourself, Peri,” Jenny said as she pushed away, stopping short to hold Peridot by her shoulders at arm’s length. The reappearance of the tiny wrinkle between Jenny’s eyebrows made Peridot nervous, as if she were being examined under a microscope. It was gone again in an instant, however, and Jenny sighed. “Listen, if Jasper ever takes us up on our offer to come visit, you better come, too.”

Peridot opened her mouth to say respond but, apparently predicting that Peridot was planning to bow out of the offer, Jenny shook her head.

“‘ _You better come, too_ ,’ I said,” Jenny said sternly. “I don’t care if Jasper never talks to you again. Well, actually, I do. But you know what I mean.” She removed her hands from Peridot’s shoulders to cross them in front of herself. “It wouldn’t be the same without you, you hear?”

Admittedly touched, Peridot didn’t know what to say in return. So she settled for just nodding, and croaking out a single, “Okay.”

“Okay,” Jenny repeated around a smile.

Then Buck stepped forward and gave Peridot a quick hug, too. “God speed,” he chuckled. “You’ve got a long car ride ahead of you.”

“Yeah,” agreed Sour Cream as he replaced Buck. He didn’t say anything more, just briefly rested his chin on top of Peridot’s head as they embraced. When he pulled away, something stirred in the back of Peridot’s mind. An image from just the previous night of Sour Cream muttering something, of Jasper going after him, and the chaos that ensued.

“Wait,” Peridot said, craning her neck to look him straight in the eye. “You _knew.”_

Sour Cream dug his hands into his pocket as he shrugged his shoulders. “I’m a light sleeper,” he replied.

 _Of course,_ Peridot thought. After all, how many times had she discussed her problems with somebody or spoken to Lapis herself when Sour Cream had presumably been taking a nap in close proximity? Although this would have irritated her on any other day as a gross invasion of privacy, just then she couldn’t help but laugh.

So she laughed, and Sour Cream started to laugh with her. He pulled her in for another hug, and then he said, “Let us know somehow when you get home safe.”

Without words, Peridot pulled her gel pen from her pocket, holding it out to Sour Cream as she automatically lifted her wrist. Sour Cream got the hint, accepted the pen, and scribbled his email right above where Steven had written his. Then, in turns, Jenny and Buck both took the pen to copy down their own emails on Peridot’s forearm.

“Give our info to L, would you?” Jenny asked. Her smile transformed into a bit of a grimace as she explained, “We didn’t want to ask Jasper. You get it.”

Garnet then materialized out of nowhere to take the pen from Jenny. She, too, jotted her email down as she whispered, “If you need someone to talk to.” There was no hugging, for which Peridot would admit feeling a bit grateful. Garnet just capped the pen, handed it back to Peridot, and said, “Until we meet again.”

Then, just as silently as she had appeared, she left. Jenny, Buck, and Sour Cream followed her with backwards waves and goodbyes, and Steven and Connie followed them in the same fashion.

Amethyst walked up to Peridot’s side and, without warning, swiped the pen from Peridot’s grasp. She grabbed her wrist a bit more roughly than Peridot thought was wholly necessary, and wrote her own email down. “You better message me _tonight,_ Peridot. Or else.”

“Or else what?’ Peridot asked, trying her hardest to subdue a smile. “Friendship cancelled?”

A long chirp of feedback interrupted them as Pearl’s voice called out from her megaphone. “It’s time to depart for Beach Day! Campers, please board the buses in as orderly a fashion as you can manage. Counselors, ready yourselves for headcount.”

Amethyst looked off towards the buses. “That’s my cue,” she sighed.

“All right,” Peridot said. She stooped to collect her bags once more—with Amethyst’s help lifting them over her shoulders—and began to make her way past the buses to where she knew Jasper’s van was still parked.

As she walked, she caught a glimpse of a clump of yellow bandanas huddled around Jasper’s huge figure. She was guiding them to the front bus, and Peridot was dumbfounded to see Jasper carrying the boy she recognized as Sour Cream’s little brother on her hip. Although Jasper’s face looked largely disinterested in the children around her—most of whom were scrambling to take turns hugging her leg before climbing the bus steps—it didn’t make any indication that she was hating the attention either. In that way, Peridot pondered the fact that this was the most maternal she’d ever seen her best friend.

Pearl’s words came back to Peridot. _Campers who_ idolize _you,_ both _of you._

Even Steven’s friend—Ronaldo’s little brother, the one that Peridot recognized as being the first camper assigned to Yellow that year—hung back to say something to Jasper with a tentative smile. Jasper just nodded at him, and with a wider smile still he boarded the bus. Finally, Jasper removed Sour Cream’s little brother from her hip and placed him on the top step to the bus. She ruffled his hair with her hand, and then shooed him away. With a grin, he obliged.

By the time Amethyst and Peridot made it to Jasper’s van, Jasper had already retrieved her bags from the ground and begun to walk over herself. The van beeped, Jasper having evidently unlocked it with her key fob. Peridot took this as Jasper’s direction to start loading up the car.

As Peridot slid open the van’s back door on the passenger side, Amethyst groaned, “Welp, Peridork. I’ll leave you here.” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “Gotta go shepherd fourteen sugar-crazed rugrats. You understand.”

Grunting a bit with the effort of moving her duffle bag to the car’s carpeted floor, Peridot smirked. “Yeah, I think I do.” After dropping her backpack next to her duffle and slamming the door closed, she turned and automatically brought her arms up to embrace Amethyst one last time.

“This sucks,” Amethyst grumbled into her hair.

“It does,” Peridot agreed. Then they stepped back from each other. “Well. Happy birthday.”

Amethyst chuckled. “Thanks.”

Jasper finally caught up to them then, moving around the front of the van to load her bags in the chair behind the driver’s seat. Amethyst, a bit to Peridot’s surprise, followed her. When Jasper had dropped her bags and closed the back door again, Amethyst muttered, “C’mere, sis,” and pulled her down for a hug. Jasper responded by wrapping her arms around Amethyst and patting the spot between her shoulder blades.

Not wanting to intrude on their goodbye, Peridot busied herself by climbing into the passenger seat and shutting the door behind her. The windows had been left open since their initial arrival, and Peridot crossed her arms on the edge of the pane, placed her chin on top of her arms, and stared out.

The buses were now fully boarded, with the exception of Amethyst and Pearl, the latter of whom waited just outside the door of the back bus. She held her clipboard tightly to her chest, her megaphone hanging limply from a carabiner attached to her belt loop. She’d been staring intently at Amethyst and Jasper but, upon noticing Peridot’s eyes on her, lifted her hand to give a feeble wave. Peridot returned the gesture, lifting her fingers for a moment in acknowledgement.

Amethyst then crossed in front of the van as Jasper opened the door and settled herself into the driver’s seat. The van’s engine roared to life. Turning on her heel to point finger guns in Peridot’s direction, Amethyst shouted, “Later, loser!”

Peridot, unable to help herself, snorted out a laugh. She sat up and cupped her hands over her mouth to shout back, “Catch you on the flippety flip!”

Amethyst turned away and waved nonchalantly over her shoulder. As Jasper began to back the van out of its space, Peridot watched Amethyst walk to Pearl’s side. But even upon arrival, Amethyst did not turn back around. Pearl placed her hand on Amethyst’s shoulder and leaned down a bit to say something to her. Amethyst’s shoulders went up and back down once, either in a shrug or a deep breath or something else.

Jasper switched gears, and they were off. As the van passed slowly under the entrance sign, Peridot felt that heavy sensation in her chest return. She shifted around in her seat to get one last glance of the Temple, the buses, the fire pit, Pink Cabin. Then Jasper drove them into the thicket of trees, and they all fell away out of sight.

Turning back around to face forward, Peridot took a deep, shaky breath. Although they hadn’t been in the car for much more than a minute, the silence was already weighing down on her.

“So,” she said, looking up at Jasper.

Jasper’s eyes flicked to her for a moment before returning to the road. She didn’t say anything.

And Peridot decided not to press her. She focused instead on properly buckling her seatbelt.

The car moved through the trees at a slow pace, only coming to a stop before turning from the dirt path that led to Camp Hidden Gem onto the asphalt that led to everywhere and anywhere else.

More to herself than to Jasper, Peridot muttered. “Three weeks. We lasted three weeks.”

There was a pause. Then, “Talk about ‘the Best Summer Ever.’”

Peridot’s heart gave a great leap. She turned to look at Jasper, beaming. Jasper, however, stared straight ahead at the road, giving no indication whatsoever that she’d said anything at all.

Peridot could feel herself deflate a little. “Yeah,” she said. And then she sat back in her seat, arm extended so that her hand hung limp out the open window.

The camp buses eventually caught up to them, and it took every ounce of Peridot’s willpower not to glance back at them through the car’s side mirror. Soon, however, they came upon Beach City, at which point the buses peeled off in another direction as the van kept on its path towards the highway.

At the turnpike, Jasper rolled the windows up. Peridot retracted her hand into her chest as if she’d been burned. Then, before the window sealed completely, she took a deep inhale of breath. She could just pick up the lightest hint of salty sea air for a moment. But then it was gone, and the sign for the Beach City exit disappeared in the rearview mirror.

\---

The trip back to Peridot and Jasper’s hometown technically took less than three hours. But it really felt like more than three years to Peridot, mostly because Jasper hadn’t said a single thing since they left camp. Instead of forcing conversation, Peridot settled for staring aimlessly out the window as the scenery alternated between forests and fields and towns.

Then they passed the “Welcome to Keystone” sign, and then the exit for the Best Diner in the World. Although Peridot would have assumed that she would feel better the closer they got to home, the opposite proved to be true. With every familiar landmark they passed, the lump in her throat grew.

Eventually, Jasper pulled the van off the highway entirely. They passed the Giant Eagle where Jasper had her first job as a grocery bagger, and then Peridot’s high school. They passed the park where they played as kids. Each sight felt like a punch in the gut.

Soon enough, they finally came to a stop in front of Peridot’s house. Everything was the same as when she left it, right down to the seasonal wreath (red, white, and blue tinsel, which struck Peridot in an odd way; usually when she arrived home from camp, the sunflower wreath was the one to greet her). The driveway was empty, though, which meant her parents were not yet home. Peridot realized just then that she hadn’t even thought to warn them that she was coming home early.

She didn’t realize how tense the atmosphere in the car had become until she tore her eyes away from her front yard to look at Jasper. Jasper, meanwhile, was still staring straight ahead, knuckles nearly white with how tightly she was gripping the steering wheel.

“Jasper,” Peridot said, her voice so quiet that she could barely hear it herself.

Jasper apparently heard it anyway, though. She hummed a low note in response, keeping her eyes trained on the street.

“ _Jasper,”_ Peridot hissed. “ _Look_ at me, will you?”

After a pregnant pause, Jasper did. She slowly turned her head in Peridot’s direction, leaving her eyes to stare blankly ahead until the last possible second.

Just as soon as the two girls’ eyes met, however, Peridot burst into tears.

Jasper looked shocked, her eyes going comically wide as she withdrew her hands into her chest. “ _What—?”_

The tears were spilling so forcefully out of Peridot’s eyes that she couldn’t see. She brought her hands to fruitlessly wipe at them as she wailed, “ _I’m_ — _I’m—I’m sorry.”_ She hiccupped a breath before continuing. “I’m _so sorry,_ Jasper. I’ve wrecked _everything._ I got us _fired._ I _broke up_ you and Lapis.”

“Whoa,” Jasper said, now frantically waving her hands in front of herself. “ _Whoa,_ hold on—”

But now that the floodgates had broken down, there was no stopping Peridot. She wailed unabashedly, “ _No,_ I _did._ You two were _fine_ until—” Peridot had to stop to breathe again. She took a few deep breaths as she moved her hands to rip through her hair. “I don’t know why I did it,” she sighed heavily, punctuating the end of the sentence with a sniff. “I just—I couldn’t _control_ myself. I tried to stop it so many times.” When it appeared that Jasper was going to try to cut in, Peridot shook her head and continued, “I’m _sorry,_ I’m not trying to—to excuse my behavior.” Fresh, hot tears began streaming down her face. “You were so happy with her, and I destroyed that. I’m—”

“Peridot, stop it.”

Jasper’s voice was so stern, yet simultaneously so quiet, that it worked in jarring Peridot from her tumultuous, downward spiral. Although she wasn’t able to instantly dry up her tears, she was at least able to shut up and meet Jasper’s stare.

“Do you _really_ think,” Jasper asked, eyebrows bunching in clear bewilderment, “that I’m mad at you because of _Lapis?”_

Momentarily distracted by the idea that Jasper “being mad at” Peridot was a tad of an understatement, Peridot didn’t immediately respond. But then she sniffed again and said, “Well, _aren’t_ you?”

“No,” Jasper responded. But then her mouth set itself into a thin line. “Maybe a little. But I’m mostly mad at Lapis for Lapis.” Jasper’s face darkened as her eyes drifted past Peridot, off into space. “ _She’s_ responsible for what _she_ did.”

Beyond nonplussed herself, Peridot could only blink at her. Before she could help herself, she asked, “Then why did you try to go after her this morning?”

Jasper’s attention snapped back to her at once. There was a long, heavy silence before Jasper said, “It’s hard to let go of people who mean a lot to you, don’t you think?”

Peridot didn’t know what to say to that.

Jasper continued on without Peridot’s input anyway. “I’m mad at _you_ for what _you_ did.”

“But—?”

Wheeling back around to grip the steering wheel again, Jasper delivered her next sentence to the street in front of them. Her lips formed a snarl as she exclaimed, “For _sneaking around_ and for _lying_ and for _knowing_ how much what you were doing would hurt me and for _doing it anyway!”_ She took a sharp breath through her nostrils, and her knuckles loosened a bit.

Meanwhile, Peridot sat frozen. She opened and closed her mouth once, twice, three times before she managed to choke out, “I’m sorry.” New tears gathered at the edges of her eyelids once more.

Jasper glanced over at her, and then rolled her eyes. “Stop that. I don’t feel like comforting you right now.”

“I know,” Peridot said. She tugged the collar of her shirt up to her eyes to wipe them dry. “I just don’t know what else to say.”

“Neither do I,” Jasper gruffed, returning her gaze to the street beyond.

They were silent for an extra minute before Peridot asked, “Do you know what I can do to fix this?”

Jasper didn’t say anything in response. After a second, she just shook her head.

“I want to fix this,” Peridot pressed. “You’re still my friend. My _best friend._ You might not feel the same way about me anymore but—” Tears threatened to spill over anew. Peridot tried fiercely to blink them back. Still, her throat was thick as she continued, “You’ve been there for me through _everything._ Through my accident.”

She had to stop again, blinking more furiously as her eyes stung. In the meantime, Jasper’s eyes had wandered back over to her.

Peridot cleared her throat, then said, “I know that my actions are inexcusable, and that you maybe never want to talk to me again. But I can’t have that, Jasper. I can’t imagine my life without you, so I’m going to be selfish again and try to fix this, even if you don’t want me to, and—” She sighed, looking off into the distance beyond Jasper’s shoulder. “I don’t know. I just have to try.”

That last part she delivered rather offhandedly, almost in a whisper. So Peridot was especially surprised when she heard Jasper take a deep breath before replying, “Okay.”

Head snapping back in place to stare wide-eyed and open-mouthed at Jasper, Peridot took a minute before she was able to force out, “ _Really?_ ”

Jasper, at some point, had met her eyes and was staring back at her pensively. There was no hint of a smile on her lips, but her eyes at least were relaxed—neither narrowed nor widened. “Yeah,” Jasper mumbled.

In spite of the fact that Peridot had already hugged more people today than she arguably had in her entire life, the sudden urge to wrap her arms around Jasper’s neck was overwhelming. She didn’t let herself do it, though, figuring that it would be too much too soon and might make Jasper reconsider being open to a reconciliation effort. So, in lieu of a hug, Peridot just nodded enthusiastically and said, “Okay!”

Jasper mirrored the nod—albeit in a much more subdued manner—and that was it. Peridot took the end of the conversation as her hint to go. She opened the passenger side door and crawled out, shutting it behind her. But she had just slid open the backdoor of the van to retrieve her belongings when she heard Jasper say, “Peridot.”

Peridot, her hand on her duffle, looked up. The other girl had twisted around in her seat to face her, her eyes trained steadfast on Peridot’s own.

“Can I ask you something?”

Peridot gulped. “Sure,” she replied. “Anything.”

There was no pause between Peridot’s reply and Jasper’s question. “Do you love her?” she asked.

And Peridot was thrown off guard. She could feel her eyebrows gather together as she contemplated the question. But Jasper’s eyes stubbornly held fast to her own, and Peridot blurted out the first answer that came to mind; the first answer, at least, that she figured Jasper would want to hear. Peridot said, “No.”

Jasper nodded once and turned to face forward again. But her face did not turn away quickly enough for Peridot miss seeing a wrinkle appear around Jasper’s eyes, and Jasper’s mouth set into a hard line—that is, the unmistakable signs that Peridot had given the wrong answer.

“Wait,” she said, sighing and resolving to give the answer closest to the truth. As Jasper twisted slightly in her seat to look back, Peridot continued, “I don’t know.” At Jasper’s incredulous look, Peridot pressed, “I _don’t,_ really. I mean, it’s been three weeks. Can you fall in love in three weeks?”

Some memory echoed in Peridot’s brain: Lapis staring up at the night sky, exasperated, groaning out, _God, Peridot, I don’t know! We’ve only been dating three months. I don’t think you can fall in love in three months._

Peridot recalled that, at the time, she probably would have agreed with Lapis. But just then, as she stood hunched over, half-in and half-out of the van, back becoming stiff but refusing to move a muscle until she received some kind of response from Jasper? Just then, if asked, Peridot probably would have changed her answer to _Maybe. With the right person, just maybe._

“Maybe,” Peridot finally finished out loud.

At that, Jasper just kind of winced. It wasn’t an angry wince, though. The wrinkle had disappeared, as had the tightness in her lips. To Peridot, the wince was more like the reaction to hearing something mildly unpleasant, rather than to hearing something devastating.

And, quite frankly, Peridot didn’t feel all that guilty for eliciting that weird, faint wince. She was being honest for once and, after all, Jasper _did_ ask.

The wince was fleeting, and soon all that was left on Jasper’s face was a truly neutral expression. “Okay,” Jasper said.

Taking this as her cue to continue gathering her things, Peridot did so. She slung her duffle over one shoulder, her backpack over the other. She stood upright and, after wobbling briefly before adjusting to the heavy load, said, “So. I’ll text you later?”

Jasper seemed to consider this before replying, “No, I’ll text you.” A look of apprehension must have washed over Peridot’s face, because Jasper added, “I’m not going to ghost you, I promise. I just—” Jasper blinked. Peridot could tell that she was choosing her next words very carefully. “I need some time. But I’ll text you.”

Peridot just nodded. Then she stepped backwards onto the curb and grasped the handle of the van’s door. “Okay,” she said, trying to suppress any indication of wariness. “Later.”

She waited an extra second to slide the door closed until she heard Jasper say, “Later,” in return. Then she stood on the sidewalk and watched as Jasper pulled away. As Jasper drove off down the street, Peridot saw her through the back window lifting her hand briefly and giving a wave. Peridot returned the gesture, and then Jasper rounded the corner and disappeared from view.

\---

It was almost as if her homecoming had been anticipated. The house key was waiting under the welcome mat, a soda was waiting in the fridge, and her room was waiting down the hallway. The room was much cleaner than how she’d left it. One of her parents must have tidied up as soon as Jasper had taken her away three weeks ago. But she’d fix that in no time, and started by dumping her duffle on the ground, her soda on the nightstand, and herself and her backpack on her bed.

Being early afternoon, she had a good several hours before anyone else returned home. She pulled her cell phone from a drawer in the nightstand and turned it on. But she didn’t use it to text either of her parents to warn them that she’d come back early. Quite plainly, that conversation wasn’t one that she wanted to have just yet, and besides, they’d figure it out sooner or later after discovering their daughter’s door wide open. Instead, she increased the volume of the phone’s ringer and placed it ceremoniously beside her on the mattress.

If Jasper texted, she’d be the first to know.

Next, she pulled her prostheses off, placing them as carefully on the floor as she could manage from her position on the bed. Then she unzipped her backpack and pulled her tablet from it. Finally, she stretched back onto the pillows, situated the tablet on her lap, turned it on, and pulled up a word document.

It was there that she got stuck, uncertain of what to do next.

Subconsciously, she began to twist her bracelet around and around her wrist. When she glanced down at it, she realized that she had smudged some of the ink on her wrist. Bringing her fist up to examine it more closely, she found (with some amount of relief) that she hadn’t disturbed all of the words on her wrist—just the one written in blue ink. And from there, Peridot figured it most wise to get an email out to that address while she could still kind of see it. Ink didn’t last forever, after all, and it’s certainly not as if she had committed that particular address to memory as soon as she’d been given it.

What a ridiculous accusation.

_From: PiercyPresPer_

_To: waterwitch92_

Peridot wrote out every email address that decorated her arm, indicating after each to whom they belonged. She paused for a moment to crack open her soda. After taking a sip and replacing it onto the nightstand, and after taking a deep breath that somehow only managed to make her heart beat faster than it already was, Peridot added a single extra line.

_Also: hey._

Then she pressed send before she could think twice about it.

She went back to the word document as soon as she closed out of her email. She discovered the lines that she had already typed that morning, those that followed the heading, “Log date 062715.” And she longed for those simpler times when she was completely unaware of the fact that she was about to get punched, left, and fired within an hour of each other. _Ah, past Peridot,_ she mused internally. _So young. So naive._ Deciding that she could at least update her log about just how quickly her day had turned downhill, she pressed the “Enter” button on the screen’s keyboard.

Peridot hadn’t even begun to type on this new line, however, before her phone chimed. She pounced on it, in utter, euphoric, anxious disbelief that Jasper would be texting her so soon.

But it wasn’t Jasper yet. It was a notification that she received a new email.

_From: waterwitch92_

_To: PiercyPresPer_

_Thank you._  

_And also: hey back._

Peridot stared blankly at her phone for a bit. Blinked. Breathed.

And then she tapped “Reply.”

\---

End log.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for permitting me to share this story with you and for the wonderful support I've received because of it. This is the first multi-chapter fanfiction I've ever completed, and I'm quite proud of it.
> 
> Stay tuned for a one- or two-chapter sequel, which will be posted sometime this year. And also stay tuned for whatever independent fanfics I write in the future.
> 
> Until then, rock on.

**Author's Note:**

> Track this story on Tumblr using "#steven universe scau" OR visit my blog at http://mkandas.tumblr.com/


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